Cor Leonis
by cocoartist
Summary: All she wanted was to satisfy her curiosity about the enigmatic wizard and the mystery he had left behind him. What she uncovered was completely unexpected. (Valentine's challenge fic) HG/RB
1. Of Unfortunate Proposals and Firewhiskey

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Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing. Written for a Valentine's Day prompt at Granger Enchanted.

_Prompt: Drunk on Valentine's Day, Hermione casts a spell to find a wizard and ends up getting someone she never expected._

Please excuse the irritating symbols, I'm having formatting issues. *glares angrily at computer*_  
_

* * *

_To be, or not to be: that is the question:  
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer  
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,  
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,  
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;  
No more; and by a sleep to say we end  
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks  
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation  
Devoutly to be wish'd. __**To die, to sleep;  
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;**_

_ ~ Hamlet, William Shakespeare._

_.  
_

"_**Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!" ~**__ Kreacher, DH_

_._

_.  
_

Hermione wondered what Ron was talking about across the table. He seemed to be gearing up to something.

"… only you Hermione, for so long. I want to have children with you and come home to you every night…"

Oh _gods. _He was about to propose. She hoped her face didn't convey quite the level of nauseous horror that was churning in her stomach.

Children? _Children?_ But- her career. He knew how important that was. She realised he hadn't actually stopped speaking and tuned back in.

"… I've been given a massive payrise so you won't need to work or anything. We'll buy a nice house in the countryside, I've seen one I like actually, move out of that flat."

"I love _that flat_, Ron."

If he noticed the icy tone of her voice, he didn't show it.

"Oh but Hermione, when we're married you know you'll want a nice big house for all the kids. Besides, it's in Muggle London."

"Ron, I don't think I can. Not yet. I want a career, for one thing. I'm twenty-one, I'm not ready to settle down."

"You don't _need _a career, Hermione! I'll make enough for both of us soon."

Had Molly Weasley so brainwashed her sons?

"Ron, I'm so sorry," she took a deep breath, "but I don't want to marry you."

As soon as it had escaped her lips she heard the statement resonate, the truth of it ringing out clearly in a damning crescendo._ I don't want to marry you_. Not _I don't want to get married yet. _Or ever _I don't want to get married. _Semantics. I don't want to marry **you**. Him. Ron. Her boyfriend of three years. Well, shit.

Her horror increased exponentially as he got down on one knee and pulled out a ring from his pocket. A small ruby on a gold band. She wrinkled her nose slightly.

"Hermione, we're meant to be together. Marry me, please?" He said, gazing up at her.

She took a deep breath and then stood up. "Ron I really can't do this. I don't think I want to marry you- not now, and not tomorrow or the next day," she said quietly, guilt washing over her as his face flushed and his eager eyes fell to the ground.

"Well- someday then? Say you'll be my wife someday. I can wait." He was so _eager, _had such lack of understanding of her.

"Oh Ron, stand up- please."

He stood slowly, ears burning an angry red.

"Ron, I wish I wanted to marry you. I wish I could be the wife you want and need but I – I – I can't _do _this. I can't marry you, not ever." And with that she fled, tears burning in her eyes at the knowledge of her cruelty. Poor, ignorant Ron. She apparated to Grimmauld Place, praying that Sirius wouldn't be out on a Valentine's date.

"Hello?" she called up the stairs, hating the stain of tears on her shaky voice, "Sirius are you here?"

His leather jacket was missing. Her heart sank; he must have gone to trawl the bars for some pretty blonde wanting to throw herself at the infamous man. Why today, of all days, when she needed her confidant more than any other time? The one person who would understand why she couldn't marry Ron? Suddenly feeling hollow, she walked slowly up the stairs to the library and sank down in a leather chair near the still-burning fire. The warm glow lit up the room, and she waved her wand at the decanter of firewhiskey on the Mahogany sideboard.

_Might as well get pissed, _she decided. She had just dumped the man who she'd thought she'd marry since she was twelve years old after all.

God, the papers would have a field day. And poor, poor Harry… he'd be just as devastated as Ron… she took a huge gulp of firewhiskey, wincing as it burned down her throat. She was a third of the way into the decanter when she noticed the sparkling… _something_ on the Black tapestry. Wondering again why Sirius hadn't covered or removed it, she wandered over, clutching her wand.

Her eyes were drawn by the glittering thread that appeared to entwine itself in the name _Regulus Arcturus Black_. His name, like all those who were dead, was dark green, those living embroidered in silver. _Pretty. _That had been Kreacher's job, she knew. She stumbled slightly and held her wand hand out to steady herself, forgetting the glass of firewhiskey held in her hand. It splashed onto the tapestry and she started back in surprise, dropping the glass._ Oops. _She stared at the glass, frowning for a moment. Then an errant thought crossed her mind.

Why would Regulus' name have the colours of the living and the dead entwined? She looked back at his name, wondering what could possibly cause that. Perhaps Kreacher had decorated it to commemorate his late master?

Then she realised that the name was _glowing _faintly. What on earth…? She leaned forward and tapped the name with her wand, whispering, "_Revealis"_.

A small tear appeared in the stitching and she eagerly pulled at it. Perhaps she would regret this later, but here was a chance to solve the mystery that was- or rather, had been- the enigmatic youngest Black.

Her fingers closed on a scrap of parchment, folded impossibly small. She gently tugged it free and watched in surprise as the tapestry healed the small rift, as though it had never been there. Unfurling the paper, she read in a faintly familiar hand;

_The clue is in the name and in the stars._

_Not death, not life, but peace._

_An enchanted, accursed prince. _

_R.A.B_

Hermione stared at the scrap of paper.

Regulus Arcturus Black. R.A.B. At least _that _was one mystery they'd already solved.

The second line tugged most firmly at her attention. _Not death_… was this a hint that he was alive? But then it definitely said that he wasn't _alive _either. Peace. Which indicated that the name on the tapestry was less dark that those very few living for a reason.

.

_To sleep:  
To sleep- perchance to dream,_

_.  
_

Could he be alive? An animagus, like his brother perhaps? Or- she hated to think it- a Horcrux. Hearing voices on the floor below, she pushed the riddle into her pocket, and tiptoed out to see who it was.

"Hermione? You here?" Harry, and he sounded frantic. _Shit. _

"Look mate, I'd best talk to her. She's here- look there's her coat and I can smell her perfume still."

"Well, okay… but if she needs me will you floo straight away?" Harry sounded reluctant, but tired.

"Course I will. Now go and comfort your prat of a best friend. Try and find out what he did to make Hermione run off like that."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow," Harry replied, his tone still holding a layer of concern.

She waited for the door to shut behind Harry before walking down the stairs. Sirius held out his arms and she walked gladly into them, grateful for the warmth and comfort they provided. He held her tightly then stepped back to look at her face.

"You alright pet?" there was no hint of liquor on his breath; perhaps he hadn't been out? She would ask later. "Come on upstairs and we'll talk."

"Okay," she whispered, suddenly exhausted.

He apparated them into the Library, and frowned at the smashed glass.

"Bit of pent up anger?" he smiled at her, but it wasn't that convincing. There was too much worry behind it.

"No, accident. Sorry…"

"It's fine," he waved his wand and the shards flew back together. "Come here." He sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

"Ron proposed."

Sirius groaned. "Silly git, you're much too good for him." He'd never really liked Ron much. Perhaps because Molly had never trusted or liked Sirius, nor accepted his rightful place as Harry's guardian. Or perhaps he saw something in Ron that he couldn't respect. She'd never asked and he'd never gone into detail.

"He wants me to give up my career and have lots of little Weasleys," she said twisting to bury her face in his shoulder. "How could he ask me that? How _could _he?"

Sirius pulled her tightly to him, murmuring in her ear.

"I can't marry him Sirius, not now and not _ever. _I- I've always believed we were meant to be, that I loved him despite everything and I realised tonight that I don't. He's not for me."

She was sobbing now, soaking his shoulder.

"Come on pet, I'll put you to bed here and we'll talk about it more in the morning yeah?"

She nodded and let him carry her up the stairs to the room next door to his. He tucked her in, and left her to her thoughts. Her dreams were filled with lions and stars and sleeping princes and the face of a beautiful boy she'd only ever seen smirking arrogantly out of photographs.

_._

.

.

When Hermione awoke, it took her a moment to place herself. Her mouth was dry and her head was aching with a dull, heavy throb. The room was dim, heavy velvet curtains obscuring any light from the window and had she not stayed in this room many times before she would have been at a loss as to where she was. She remembered Sirius gently laying her down in the large bed, and the comfort he'd given her. In some ways he was her brother, her best friend. They fought like siblings over almost anything, from house elves to Muggle rock, but it was Sirius to whom she ran when she was upset and to Sirius she could confess anything.

Like not wanting to marry Ron… like not being in _love _with Ron. Hermione bit her lip, feeling the guilt wash over her again, and the deep, sick feeling that pooled in her stomach when she thought of the reaction to the news. Mrs Weasley would finally feel justified in not loving her as she loved Harry… and the _press_. Gods.

And Harry… she couldn't _bear_ it if Harry hated her for this. She sat up slowly, rubbing her temples and sighed when she realised she was still in her robes from the night before. She needed a shower and something to eat.

And then… and then she'd have a go at solving the mystery that was Regulus Black. In the light of day it seemed far more likely that Kreacher would have braided his name in silver to be sentimental, not because Regulus was alive. The note could be referring to a myriad of things. There would be a logical explanation. There always was. And the mystery was something to take her mind off the lack of Ron. The gaping hole he'd left, a hole he had never really filled. She pulled the note out of the small pocket in her deep blue robes and read it again.

Who was Regulus Black, really? He was as handsome and confident as Sirius from the photographs she'd seen, and he had that same careless grace that came so easily to the Blacks. Not that there was any chance he could be ugly; with Narcissa, Bellatrix and Andromeda who had all been unbelievably beautiful as his cousins, to his brother who had been an exquisite mixture of grace and charm before Azkaban had ravaged his looks. He was still handsome, but more worn than he should be, and his eyes were haunted sometimes with memories she knew he would never share.

But Regulus… she'd always been quite intrigued by the younger Black brother. By all accounts he was tremendously clever; brighter even than Sirius. He'd appreciated house-elves as well, which had always seemed incongruous for an arrogant Pureblood teenage boy. But perhaps life in the Black household, particularly after Sirius left, had been so lonely and difficult that Kreacher- and the Dark Arts- were all he had to turn to.

She'd probably never know, not really.

.

_The clue is in the name and in the stars._

_Not death, not life, but peace._

_An enchanted, accursed prince. _

_R.A.B_

.

Prince… it was too much like the Half-Blood Prince or comfort. But then… hadn't Snape and Regulus been friends? She supposed they might have been and tried to recall whether she'd ever heard anything to consolidate that statement.

In the name and in the stars. That wouldn't be divination, surely? No, much more probable that it was to do with his name because of the Black obsession with naming their offspring after stars.

Regulus, she knew, was in the constellation Leo but she couldn't remember much more about it other than that. Breakfast first, and then research, she decided.

Sirius joined her for breakfast and she spent a cathartic half an hour crying about Ron and talking about what an enormous prat he was. When The _Saturday Scorpion_, Sirius' tabloid of choice arrived she groaned at the headline.

.

_**HEARTLESS HERMIONE STRIKES AGAIN?**_

**Scandal follows notoriously ambitious witch through yet another break-up**

**.  
**

_Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's ex-girlfriend left a distraught Ron Weasley in The Golden Goblin, one of London's most popular restaurants last night. Eyewitnesses say the War Hero begged the infamously callous witch, who boasted the broken hearts of Harry Potter, Viktor Krum at a young age, and it is rumoured that she even had her claws in the dashing Puddlemere Captain Oliver Wood. _

_The ambitious witch has frequently been seen on the arms of the most powerful wizards in the country, including Minister Shacklebolt, although rumours of an affair between the two have always been denied, and the notorious womaniser Sirius Black, whose home she stayed in last night. Until yesterday, however, it seemed that the ruthless Muggleborn had finally settled down. _The Scorpion _has avidly followed the relationship of the two members of the Golden Trio, presumably duo after Miss Granger's betrayal last night, since they officially confirmed their relationship in July 1997. Now 21, it seems Miss Granger wishes to put her career ahead of her love-life, and reportedly said to the heartbroken Mr Weasley, "I couldn't marry you Ron, not now and not ever," after he proposed with a beautiful ruby ring (Estimated cost 1500 Galleons, £7,500 pounds or $15,000.) _

"_She was very rude to him," one fellow diner, a Mrs Talltale from Sussex, comments, "I felt sorry for the poor boy. He'd got his proposal all worked out and a lovely ring and she threw it back in his face. I've always thought she had a hard streak in her."_

_Mr Weasley has reportedly been in love with Miss Granger since early in their Hogwarts years and spent years trying to catch her attention. We ask, is this how such loyalty and devotion is to be rewarded?_

_Who will The Man Who Conquered choose in this dramatic break-up? His wronged, loyal best friend or the scandalous woman many still believe him to be in love with? Hads Hermione Granger transferred her affections to rake Sirius Black? We'll be watching closely._

_.  
_

"Apparently you're a notorious womaniser and a rake and we're shagging," she commented lightly. "Oh and I've been sleeping with Kingsley, you and Oliver Wood recently and Harry's still in love with me."

"Not handsome or dashing?" he asked, snatching the paper and scanning it. "Oh Hermione, this is vicious. I'm sorry, especially as now they think we're having an affair."

"It's fine. I was expecting it anyway, the tabloids have always had it in for me. I'm sure I'll get some hate mail soon enough. Do you mind terribly if I go and hide in the Library for a while?"

"No, you go ahead… I'll bring you up some coffee later alright? You can stay here as long as you like."

"Do you mind? I'll find somewhere new to live, Ron can have the bloody flat if he likes, but I need to get my stuff and to hide for a few days."

"Hey, move in here if you like. The papers would love it but at least you won't be alone." His tone was warm and gentle and she leaned forward to hug him.

"Thanks Sirius, I'll consider it."

"You're the only witch in Britain I'd let live with me you know," he said half-seriously. "Pretty much the only attractive one I haven't shagged either. I've always felt you didn't belong to me, somehow."

She laughed and shook her head.

"Don't go all sappy on me, Sirius."

"I'm not but… there's some seriously decent bloke out there for you, I promise. Now, I'm going to go and have a little chat with Harry. Do you want to see him?"

She felt the guilty look cross her face; all she wanted to do was go and study the mystery Regulus had left.

"I'll tell him to give you a couple of days then, eh?"

"That would be amazing, thanks. And- will you check Ron's okay?"

He nodded, kissed her forehead and summoned his jacket.

"See you later pet, don't wallow- he's not worth it."

She nodded vaguely, her mind already on the ambiguous note.

.

.

.

_Regulus; meanings. _

_Heart of the lion (Latin: Cor Leonis, Arabic:__Qalb Al Asad__) Also derived from the Latin 'rex' and meaning prince or little king. Found in the heart of the constellation Leo it is the brightest star in the group. __Persian__ astrologers around __3000 BC__ knew Regulus as __Venant__, one of the four '__royal stars__'._

_._

Well that explained the prince part, she supposed and she had a feeling it explained the first line as well.

"Oh Regulus, what were you trying to show me?" she whispered, frustrated after an hour of research had rendered little help.

Heart of the lion… could that be a reference to Sirius? Perhaps she should go up to the top floor and look in the boys' rooms, left untouched for reasons Sirius had never explained. As the books were, unsurprisingly, offering her little in this instance, she decided that that would be the best course of action.

She went to Regulus' room first, and flinched at the newspaper cuttings of Voldemort still stuck to the walls, the proud green and silver display. It was the pictures that drew her attention; Regulus with various attractive and clearly wealthy future politicians and Death Eaters, Regulus standing outside Malfoy Manor in the sunlight arm in arm with Narcissa, Regulus flying in his silver and green SEEKER shirt… Regulus with various pretty girls. None of it was particularly helpful.

Where would an intelligent, devious wizard hide his secrets? She looked around the room and then cast a spell to show any lingering magic. The bedpost glowed slightly and she walked over to it thoughtfully. A secret compartment, perhaps?

Running her wand and hand over the polished wood, she almost missed the tiny knothole in the centre of the post. Tapping it lightly she whispered, "_Alohamora," _and golden lines glowed down the bedpost, revealing a small door. She pulled it open and smiled in satisfaction at the pile of photographs and letters.

The photographs were all of Sirius, she realised quickly. A young Regulus gazing adoringly up at his older brother, proudly wearing new Hogwarts robes. The two, a couple of years older, standing side by side in their robes, stiff and formal- a photograph for their mother perhaps? Sirius and Regulus laughing, hair spelled bright green, playing in the snow, then older pictures, a scowling Regulus and guarded Sirius in what was obviously a family portrait, Sirius laughing with his Gryffindor friends.

* * *

_Hey Reg, _

_Hogwarts is great so far- had a few weird comments from the Slytherins because of being in Gryffindor but nothing too bad. Don't listen to Mother, it's great here. Much better than being in Slytherin and the people are nicer too. You'll really like James, my new friend- he's funny. _

_Wish you were here already, _

_Sirius_

_._

_Reg, _

_Serious, Gryffindor is the BEST. I got another howler from Mother yesterday about betraying The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black but I've met some Muggleborns and they're actually really nice. I think she's wrong. I'm glad you want to be a Lion too! We'll have so much fun, _

_S_

_._

_Reg, _

_I'm in my first detention- my head of house caught James and I stealing brooms to go and fly at night. First Years aren't allowed brooms, it's rubbish._

_Sirius_

_.  
_

_R, _

_Happy Birthday- hope you like the present. I nicked it from Filch's office… thought you'd find it funny. I've sent a proper one to show Mother as well but that's boring. Did you get your Hogwarts letter?_

_S_

_._

_Regulus, _

_That's wicked mate. James has fallen in love with a pretty Muggleborn called Lily. He keeps following her around, I don't think she likes him very much. Girls are rubbish anyway,_

_Sirius_

_._

Hermione snorted at the eleven year old Sirius' view of girls. She estimated a year till he'd become an accomplished charmer.

.

_Regulus, _

_I __hate__ Bellatrix. I know she's our cousin but she's awful to people here. I found her bullying a Hufflepuff in my year- she was using magic and everything. I can't believe it._

_Sirius_

_._

_Regulus, _

_Can't wait to see you! I'll be home on Saturday but I'm dreading it… Mother will probably feed me to Kreacher. _

_Love, Sirius_

_

* * *

_

There were hundreds from Sirius' first year at Hogwarts, showing the brothers' excitement about being in the same house, the mischief they would cause. Through Sirius' letters she gained an insight into Regulus' adoration of his older brother and wondered what could have caused the drastic change. However, if Regulus' love for his brother had never worn away then it was likely the solution to the frustrating little riddle lay in Sirius' room. She'd come back and search through Regulus' things later.

It seemed so obvious the minute she walked into Sirius' room. The huge Gryffindor lion hanging proudly on the wall called out to her, taunting her with how _easy _it was.

She walked to the lion and, standing on a chair, pulled it up to where the heart would be and studied the wall intently. There was a faint discolouration and she knew she'd found another of Regulus' secret doors. It opened easily and she pulled out the small wooden box inside. Hermione shut the door and let the banner fall back into place, staring at the box. Would it be another, infuriating clue? Or something more substantial?

She hopped down from the chair and replaced it, looking around to make sure everything was in place. Then, cradling the little box as though it were made of the most delicate glass, she returned to the Library.

He had gone to such lengths to hide this little box. Her mind swirled with questions, about the silver thread on the tapestry, why it had only now appeared, what she could possibly have done to make the note reveal itself… what went on in the mind of this ever more enigmatic man? Before opening the box, ever cautious, she cast some spells to ensure that there was no malicious purpose to whatever was contained within. Then, hardly daring to breathe, she opened the box.

.

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**A/N ****Reviews make me happy. This story is already finished (in fact I wrote and posted it on a different site a year ago) so the next chapter shouldn't be too long in coming. **

**Any predictions about where our dear mini-Black could be?**

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	2. Of Keys and Doors

**Very, very belatedly - here is the second chapter of Cor Leonis. It's a completed story that has been fully posted at GE for ages so I will finish putting up the rest this week. I promise. Usual disclaimers apply. **

_Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts."  
~ __Rubeus Hagrid__,_

_The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances:_

_If there is any reaction, both are transformed._

_~ Carl Jung_

"_One has to pay dearly for immortality; one has to die several times while one is still alive."_

_~ Friedrich Nietzsche_

_I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,  
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,  
And in short, I was afraid._

~ T. S. Eliot,

_The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_

Hermione inspected the small golden key. It certainly hadn't been what she was expecting. There was another note however, so that was an up.

_Vault no. 416_

_A surprise awaits; be loathe to disturb the sleeping prince in a time of conflict. A hundred years may pass and he will be woken as __**she**__ was. _

_All will be revealed, and all apologies freely given. _

_R.A.B_

What on earth? Everything in this note pointed to Regulus being… well, _alive_. So why was she being sent to Gringotts? She sighed and looked down at the note. It was probably meant for Sirius, but something in her cringed away at the thought of sharing her little mystery. She wanted to solve this herself, and she would go to Gringotts.

Today. She would go today.

Decided, she hurried upstairs hoping that she'd have some robes left over. She usually kept some spare clothes at Grimmauld Place.

After showering, writing a note to Sirius and changing into some less dressy robes, Hermione carefully charmed her appearance; dirty blonde hair and paler skin, to avoid recognition from reporters, and apparated to Diagon Alley.

Clutching the notes and the key, she quickly made her way to the imposing Gringotts building. The glossy marble bank was by far the most handsome and regal of the buildings along the cobbled alleyway and the immediate sense of order and control that it exuded washed over her, bringing calmness with it.

After the war, Hermione had insisted that they return the sword of Gryffindor to the Goblins and she had written and personally delivered a long note of apology to them, much to the chagrin of Ron and Harry. They were famously the only people who had successfully broken into and stolen something from a Gringotts Vault in over three hundred years and the Goblins' strong sense of pride had been damaged by the theft. Since the apology, they had treated Hermione with more respect than usually given to a wand-carrier, appreciative of the gesture and the return of the sword, and its equally valuable scabbard which she had removed from the Trophy Room at Hogwarts.

Restoring her usual appearance, Hermione walked up to a free counter in the bustling entrance hall. It suddenly occurred to her that Regulus had left a key, and she yet she knew that the deeper, high security vaults required a goblin to stroke the door. Suddenly confused, she paused and then continued.

"Miss Granger," the goblin said in his cool, accented voice. "How may we assist you today?"

"I've been sent on behalf of Regulus Black to open Vault 416," she whispered.

"Ah," he replied and his slanted, dark eyes were knowing, "do you have the… symbol he left?"

"Is it the key?" she asked rhetorically, laying it on the counter. It was one more of Regulus' secretive games, she supposed. He picked it up and stroked it gently. The key glowed and she saw strange engravings appear for a moment, and then fade.

"Very well, Miss Granger. I will personally see you to the vault."

"Thank you."

She followed him to a waiting cart, and mentally prepared herself for the long journey on the terrifyingly fast cart down into the depths of Gringotts, hundreds of miles below the surface, through dark strong passageways, where the oldest family vaults were kept.

It felt like hours- or perhaps only it was only minutes, there was no way of telling- later when they stopped outside a highly ornate door, with a fearsome dragon guarding the entrance. Hermione recoiled in fear, but immediately the goblin began to shake his clanker, producing a loud ringing sound and the dragon backed mercifully away.

Hermione stared at the door to the vault. It appeared to be made of a dark, greyish metal, and was beautifully inlaid with swirling silver designs. The goblin walked forward and bowed to the vault, murmuring something she couldn't head. A silver panel appeared in the centre of the door and he laid his palm upon it. The door shuddered slightly and the silver turned to gold. He removed his hand, replacing it with the key and she watched as it was pulled into the metal, which appeared to be almost molten, like golden mercury. Then it was released and the door swung open.

Inside there were piles of gold, far more than she had seen in even the Lestrange vault, and in the centre of the large room was a smooth stone plinth with a vaguely coffin-like casket lying on top of it.

She froze in horror. Was this Regulus Black's _body_? She looked wildly to the goblin, questions burning in her eyes.

"You will not find what you expect inside, Miss Granger. You are here to open it; do not back away in horror now," he said gravely.

She pulled out her wand and cast a spell to test the magic on the coffin. It shone brightly with more complex spells than she could fathom, although they didn't appear to be harmful in nature.

"You will need the key, Miss Granger."

"Thank you," she murmured, accepting it. A mixture of horror and anticipation pooled in her stomach and her heart thudded against her chest as she stroked the smooth, scented wood. Cedarwood, for preservation of the body. She cringed away slightly and then forced the key into the golden lock with a trembling hand, admiring the golden hourglass engraved on the wood.

She certainly hadn't been expecting the vast array of colours that flickered across the room, the unravelling of intricate and multifaceted spells dancing away in glorious beams of light as the key turned.

When she looked inside the coffin, she gasped in surprise, although she had been half expecting the sight. The body was perfectly still, but there was colour in the elegant cheeks as though it were living.

"Is- he- what?" she stammered.

"I believe there is a message, Miss Granger."

_While there was no wicked witch in this tale to send a beautiful princess to sleep, and I am no Brünnhilde, I have slept a coward's sleep, hidden away from the world and he who would surely wish my death. _

"Sleeping beauty?" she whispered in disbelief. What on earth was Regulus talking about? Lying in the cedar wood chest, which while not as morbid as a coffin had the same stamp of death upon it, he could have been a potion riddled Romeo in place of Juliet, waiting for his lover to join him. On a whim she leant forward and pressed her lips to his still-warm cheek.

He gasped and she jumped back in surprise, watching in awe as his eyes fluttered open. There was no mistaking this man; aged slightly from the last photograph but the grey-green eyes, thick dark hair and sharp, chiselled features were the same.

"You're certainly prettier than my brother," he commented, but his voice was so husky she could barely hear the words.

Appalled, Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes, and she sank to the floor overwhelmed.

What had she done? What Pandora's Box had she opened?

He sat up, wincing slightly and stared down at her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from those eyes. She had thought him like Sirius before, and he was and was not equally. She had known he was good-looking and intelligent but seeing him in the flesh, alive and breathing was too much.

"Gods, don't cry. I don't look that bad, surely?" he joked, his voice stronger now.

She shook her head blindly.

"Gralden, why is she crying?" he appealed to the goblin, desperately. Hermione wondered how he knew his name.

"Mr Regulus, I do not believe she was expecting to find you quite so… well, Sir. You are looking remarkably healthy, if I may say so."

"Thank you. What's the date?"

"The fifteen of February, two thousand and one, Sir."

Regulus fell back into the chest with a thud.

"Bloody hell," he whispered. "It's been a while then."

Hermione, finally gaining some self-control, stopped the ridiculous tears and stood up.

"I'm Hermione Granger, Mr Black. I'm a friend of your brother's."

"Did we win?" he asked quickly.

"If by we, you mean that Voldemort," she was pleased to note that he didn't wince, "was defeated then yes."

"Well that's good… Sirius alright?" he asked, apprehension layering his voice.

"He's well- and Regulus, you won't understand how I know this now and I think we'd better save all the long explanations for somewhere a little more comfortable and I'm sure you're hungry but he knows what you did at the end. Or, well, not the end actually."

She was blabbering, she knew. It was all too much.

"No. I was too much of a coward to let it be the real end." He shook his head, looking perturbed and smiled up at her. "I'm sorry, this is all a bit of a shock. I've missed out on… _gods- _twenty two years."

"Right well, um, I'm going to take you back to my flat and feed you- unless you want to go and see Sirius at Grimmauld Place?"

"Not-not just yet. I need some explanations first… and probably some sort of history book."

She smiled at him suddenly and murmured, "I'm a living history book Mr Black. Come on let's get you out of that ridiculous coffin. Terribly morbid, as you're alive. Not to mention melodramatic."

He nodded, dazed, and swung his legs over the edge, jumping down. He staggered as he hit the floor and she caught him.

"Sorry, bit dizzy… been asleep for a while."

"I'm desperate to know how you pulled it off. Gods, Kreacher's going to be _delighted_."

He looked pleased for a moment. "Kreacher alright? Suppose the old boy's missed me."

"Yes, and Sirius isn't very nice to him."

Regulus scowled.

"He never was. Reminded him too much of Mother I suppose, and everything he hated."

"The lake," she said suddenly. "You _drowned_. There was no way out, I don't understand…" she paused and then blushed, "Sorry, I can wait. Come on, let's get in the infernal cart. Sorry- Gralden?- you've been so patient, do you mind terribly giving me a hand? I'm not sure he's quite up to walking."

They helped the stiff wizard out of the vault and were just about to seal it when he stopped suddenly and said, "Hang on; I'd better get some gold. I'll be needing all sorts of things. Is there a bag in there Gralden?"

"Yes, Sir." The goblin released him, bowed and returned to the vault. Hermione kept a wary eye out for the dragon, even as she felt those intense silver-green eyes studying her.

"You saved me," he whispered. "I'm not sure it's quite sunk in yet, but you saved me."

"No, I just stumbled on your clues," she replied. "It was you who saved yourself."

"I should have died, not hidden myself away for twenty odd years."

She frowned but didn't answer.

He was bewitching and fascinating and she couldn't take her eyes off him as he read the book she considered most accurate about the war, sitting languorously in an arm-chair in her sitting room. She'd never felt so remarkably drawnto someone before, and for no apparent reason. For all his resemblance to Sirius, she had never felt that punch to her gut when _he _met her eyes, watching the way his hair fell, with casual elegance, into his eyes had never made butterflies flutter madly in her stomach and chest.

Regulus Black was captivating, and all he was doing was reading a bloody book. She dragged her eyes away from him and stared at her left hand. At the finger which Ron had tried to claim- was it only the night before? She felt more struck by Cupid's arrow today than she had felt on any Valentine's Day.

She glanced up at him again, unable to tear her eyes away. He met her eyes and smiled slowly.

"This is all a bit much. I've just read about this baby- James Potter's son."

"Well, Rome wasn't built in a day. We can come back to it later if you like- whatever you want. I should tell you about the next part myself anyway- it involves… Sirius."

He nodded.

"I'm not ready to see him yet, Hermione, or to announce my presence to the world," Regulus said lowly. "I've been sleeping for twenty years and yet I've never felt so tired and… lost." There was vulnerability in his voice that surprised her.

"Sleep then. The flat is warded to anyone except us. I should go and buy you some things anyway- robes and stuff. What do you need?"

"Don't worry, I'll sort that out tomorrow or later or something. I'd like to go away for a week, work out what's going on. I'll sleep in a while, perhaps." He bit his luscious bottom lip and stared out of the large sitting room window, out over the Thames to the diverse cityscape opposite.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment and then spoke hesitatingly.

"If you'd like- my parents own a cottage in Devon, we could go there, escape for a while." _Why was she offering this to a man she hardly knew? And who she knew was certainly not the nicest of people._ "Or you could go… no one would find it odd if I went away. I well, I broke up with my boyfriend last night." She winced. "When he proposed."

To her surprise, Regulus laughed.

"What was wrong with him?"

"He wanted me to move to the countryside and produce a brood of Weasleys."

Regulus looked revolted for a moment, and said in unabashed disgust, "You almost got engaged to a _Weasley_?"

"Blood traitors bother you?" she asked scathingly.

"No, it's their bloody hair."

She couldn't hide the smile that sprang to her lips, and was vaguely surprised at the lack of remorse she felt. Before they could continue, an owl tapped at the window. Hermione sighed, recognising the _Dailey Prophet _clutched in its claws.

"That owl's late," he commented. "It's the afternoon."

"Well it's got a _lovely _headline today I'm sure," she said bitterly as she let the owl in. "Hundreds of bitter witches all over Britain will be gloating."

Why she still bothered getting the paper, she wasn't sure. Sure enough, there was an unflattering photograph of her splashed across the front with the headline _HUSSY HERMIONE DITCHES WRONGED RON. _

She didn't bother reading it and rolled her eyes.

"Gods, they're _so _unimaginative. I don't know why I let it bother me."

"Let's have a look?" he asked. Unthinking, she tossed him the paper. He choked in surprise.

"Clearly you're rather more famous that I'd imagined. Who _are _you?"

How idiotic of her. She'd grown so used to the media scrutiny of her life because of her friendship with Harry that it hadn't occurred to her that Regulus would find it odd.

"My best friend is Harry Potter, the baby you were just reading about. He grew up to defeat Voldemort… and I helped a bit I suppose. Well," she admitted, "I helped a lot actually, for seven years, but anyway that's why they think they have the right to blazon my name across the newspaper. They've been calling me a brazen hussy who sleeps and toys with famous men since I was fifteen… it's ridiculous, honestly."

"Well, you seem like an incredible witch to me, Hermione. You solved my silly riddles and saved me from a life of eternal slumber and from what you've just said I'm sure that's the least of your achievements. I owe you more than you can imagine; you've given me a second chance."

She felt tears prickle at her eyelids again and felt disgusted with herself for the amount of ridiculous crying she had done over the past day.

"You've always interested me," she admitted frankly. "I've lived in Grimmauld Place on and off for years and there were so many stories I wanted to learn from it but there was no one there to tell me." He looked curious and she smiled at him, adding, "The Black brothers must be blessed with second chances."

"What do you mean?" he enquired.

"Sirius was wrongly accused of mass-murder and was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. They- they thought he'd sold James and Lily to Voldemort. There are so many issues with the Wizarding Judicial System… he didn't get a proper trial, or representation. It's disgusting, frankly. In our- mine and Harry's, Harry's his godson, in our third year at Hogwarts he escaped. We eventually were convinced of his innocence, I'll let him tell you that story, but had to rescue him from being given the Dementors' kiss as ordered by the then Minister for Magic. Gods he was _useless_. Anyway… then Sirius went into hiding in his Animagus form-"

"Sirius is an Animagus? He _escaped from Azkaban?_" Regulus looked confused, shocked and hurt.

"Yes. He loves you, you know. He's forgiven you. I think he regrets very much that you became so distanced… anyway he escaped in his Animagus form, a big black dog," Regulus smirked slightly and she felt herself smiling back at him. "And then in our fifth year, um, Bellatrix sent him through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries during a battle… he was returned last year. It caused mass uproar and the Ministry had to give him a full pardon and masses of compensation."

"Bloody hell, I really have missed a lot," he murmured. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to take this book to bed and try and catch up. I don't feel I can see anyone until I _understand_."

"Sure, I need to go back to Grimmauld Place anyway. _Do_ you want to get away for a couple of days?"

"You're doing so much for me- why?" he countered her question with his own.

"Maybe I think you're worth saving," she said wryly. "Actually, if you must know it's because of Kreacher. I campaign for House Elf Rights, I'm currently rewriting the law, or trying at least, but it's hard to get support in the Wizengamot so I suspect it will take a few years to get through. Sorry I'm babbling again. Anyway you chose to turn away from Voldemort because of a _house-elf_… and he's still more loyal to you than to any other Black. Do you know how rare it is to care about them even a little? And besides, as a Muggleborn," she paused to check his reaction but she couldn't read the expression in his fathomless, grey-green eyes, "I can appreciate anyone turning against Voldemort."

"I was so angry when I joined him… sixteen and stupid and a coward." It wasn't an excuse or a reason, but something to counteract the effect of his name. A finger in the dam, she suspected. Only Regulus truly knew what he had done and why he had done it.

She sensed he wasn't ready to talk about his life yet, and simply nodded.

"And I'm helping you because I love Sirius," she continued. His head shot up and he eyed her warily.

A tingle ran down her spine as she considered that he might- just might- be a little jealous.

"As a brother mind you, but I love him." She smiled innocently at him.

What was it about his Black that called to her so much? She should hate him for his bigotry as a teenager; he had been a _Death Eater_, a Slytherin. He had wanted to remove her kind from the Magical World.

But he had redeemed himself. He had turned against Voldemort. But, she thought, was fear not the mother of morality? That surely couldn't apply to Regulus though. He had risked more by turning against Voldemort than he would have risked staying.

He really was exquisite. Slighter than Sirius, although not by much, his casual, leonine grace made the elder Black look as clumsy as the great black dog he transformed into as she mentally compared the two. Perhaps not as traditionally good-looking, he had an interesting, clever, beautiful face.

She pulled herself together and showed him to her small spare room.

It had easily been the most surreal day she'd ever had, and it wasn't even over yet.

* * *

Er, yes. Hope everyone enjoyed that. Please remember this was written for a Valentine's Day challenge and, therefore, is almost disgustingly sweet.

Reviews? Forgiveness for not updating it? Please?

Love,

A


	3. Of Falling and Rings of Fire

FLUFF WARNING. Run for your lives.

* * *

_Et tu Brute? Then fall Caesar!_ ~ William Shakespeare, _Julius Caesar_

_The future influences the present as much as the past._ ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

_We love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to loving._ ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

"_Love is a burning thing, _

_And it makes for a fiery ring. _

_Bound by wild desire,_

_I fell into a ring of fire._

_[…]_

_The taste of love is sweet,_

_When hearts like ours meet._

_I fell for you like a child, _

_And oh, but the fire went wild."_

~ _Lyrics by_ June Carter

Hermione wondered how much time had passed for Regulus, locked safely away in his vault at Gringotts, compared to the time passing in the outside world. She had so many questions; how had he spelled the box? How had he known to make the riddle, known someone would uncover it? Why he had become a Death Eater, when he would be ready to see Sirius, what exactly had happened at the lake that allowed him to go free.

She pushed them firmly aside, knowing he would talk when he was ready. She couldn't imagine the shock of waking up to find yourself twenty one years in the future.

He'd 'died' the year she was born, Hermione noted. That was… something she couldn't even begin to fathom.

Another question she wanted to ask was why he looked older than nineteen. His hair was long and he had a slight beard, as though he hadn't shaved for a month. It all seemed… off somehow. As though different parts of him had been under a different spell. If he had been allowed to age, he looked about twenty five, then his hair and beard should be much longer.

Had he put special spells on them? But how had his body been able to age anyway? She assumed he'd done some kind of super-powered Statis spell on himself and the coffin had clearly been inlaid with intricate spells.

He was obviously incredibly intelligent.

And that only made him even more dangerously attractive. Not to mention that it was unusual to see such beauty on a man who remained so undeniably _masculine_. Perhaps it was a trait of the male Blacks. And the Malfoys, loathe as she was to admit it.

She was disturbed from her reverie by Regulus walking into the drawing room. She was sitting, bathed in the late afternoon sun, staring out across London and the wide Thames below.

He obviously hadn't slept, she realised. He looked wide awake, if somewhat dazed.

"I finished reading," he said lowly, dropping onto the sofa opposite her. "I think I need a drink."

"Tea? Or something stronger?" she offered, expecting the latter. Sirius had always drunk to settle his nerves or bury his still torturous grief about all those he had lost, and the nightmares that lingered from his time in Azkaban and behind the veil.

Only Hermione knew about those; Sirius hid his deep sadness from the world partly to protect Harry but largely to prevent the looks of pity he so despised. She had a feeling Regulus wasn't built so differently.

"Stronger, if you have it."

"Ogden's?"

"Perfect," he said gratefully.

Pouring two large glasses of firewhiskey, she prepared to tell him of everything that was not in the books.

About the Horcruxes, for example.

"You were tortured. By… Bella." His voice was harsh, horrified.

She'd forgotten that was included in the description of their trip to Malfoy Manor.

"Yes I was. We all made sacrifices."

"No, Hermione- I've seen her torture people. I can only imagine how bad she was after Azkaban. That you are still sane, that you are undamaged speaks of mental fortitude I can't even fathom. And you were cursed by Dolohov when you fifteen. You should be dead or mad, and here you sit." He sounded awed.

"You- and your friends- that should have been me," he continued. "If I had not such a coward, so petty and misguided and angry. I _knew _what he had done and I chose to hide not to fight."

"You didn't know, Regulus. There were seven Horcruxes. _Seven_. We had Dumbledore on our side, the Order of the Phoenix… you would have fought alone. You chose life over death and I can't believe that was wrong of you. Not everyone can be the hero."

Stupid men and their hero complexes. She knew she had a tendency to want to take the burden of everything on her shoulders but it was nothing compared to Harry's infinite capacity to blame himself and believe that it was he and he alone who must carry out his tasks.

"And Sirius, locked away in Azkaban." He was almost crying, she noticed and it made her feel awkward. "How could they had believed he'd do that to Potter? Potter was like a brother to him. More."

She could not ignore the bitterness that underlined the last word.

"Oh Regulus," she sighed, moving to sit beside him. "I know Sirius better than anyone alive, and I know he loves you. He misses you desperately sometimes and he has so many regrets."

"I worshipped him, you know."

"I know," she whispered, and instinctively wrapped her arms around him. He froze for a moment and then melted into her embrace.

"I worshipped him and he abandoned me. Eleven years old and he betrayed me… he hated Slytherins so much, even his baby brother. I thought for so long that they'd stolen him, the Mudbloods- excuse me, but it is how I felt you see- the Mudbloods and the Blood Traitors. Fucking Potter, he was the worst."

He was shaking. Not crying, but on the very edge of his emotional control. Past tears. She realised that it must be the first time he'd ever admitted this, perhaps even to himself.

"He would barely speak to me at school and at home… Mother and Father ignored him or shouted him and treated me as though I were their only son. They drove us further apart, setting me up as perfect against him. I," he winced, "I was awful, held that over Sirius' head and he'd still defend me if they ever tried to curse me if my marks were poorer than they expected or I didn't catch the snitch. I've never met anyone who can love as deeply as Sirius. Why did he stop loving me?"

He seemed to be locked in his past, the words spilling out with little control. She wondered how aware he was, if he realised he was telling her or if he was so caught by the intensity of his emotions that he couldn't relate to the real situation he was in.

"And then they stole him, they took my brother away from me when I was fifteen. How I hated them, those Blood Traitor Potters, and that bitch Lily Evans. So jealous. I became a Death Eater, the youngest ever, the next year. He was my Brutus and I fell into the darkness."

Her heart broke for him as he spilled out his innermost feelings. How awful to feel your brother had deserted you. She had seen the close bond between them before they were driven apart. She suspect Sirius hadn't been quite as cold as Regulus remembered but it would have felt like that to a little boy.

A little boy who had desperately wanted to be in Gryffindor like his brother. Remembering the green and silver displays in his bedroom, she pulled him closer and kissed his head gently.

"I'm so sorry Regulus," she whispered. "So, so sorry."

He rested his head against her shoulder. He wasn't crying, but he was still shaking slightly as if he was cold. They sat there for a long time, and Hermione was amazed at how right it felt.

Finally, he drew back.

"Sorry," he said, bashfully but there was a light in his eyes in the late winter sunlight that hadn't been there before. "You really are the most incredible woman."

She blushed, and lowered her eyes from his captivating grey ones. They had darkened to the colour of slate after rain, almost all the green chased away by the rich grey. Dark and alluring, like polished welsh slate.

He put a finger under her chin and lifter her face back. "Look at me," he whispered. "I'm serious. I have never, _never_ met anyone like you. You are fascinating and beautiful Hermione."

She stared into his eyes for a moment, lost for words and then, unthinking, pressed her lips to his. He didn't respond for a moment, and she began to draw back in embarrassment. Then, as if he had suddenly woken up, he captured her lips in a passionate, heated kiss that made her forget every kiss she had been given until that moment, that kiss, that man.

His mouth was intoxicating and passion flared instantly between them. He pulled her onto his lap and she pressed against him wantonly. Gasping for breath, she wrenched herself away from his mouth and slowly came to her senses.

What was she_ doing_? She slid off his lap, flustered but he caught her wrist and held her.

"Don't run from this, Hermione."

She sat back down next to him, unable to ignore the sharp feeling of pleasure when he slid his fingers to entwine with hers.

"Tell me about your war," he said to her quietly.

"My personal experiences?" she asked to clarify and to give her time to gather her thoughts. He nodded and she continued, "Well obviously I was at the very centre of it from the age of twelve because of my friendship with Harry… but the part that you don't read about in the books because we've never told anyone, is hunting for the Horcruxes and the Hallows." She paused for a moment, knowing this part would be personal for him too. "There were seven, Regulus. We've never explained that part of our war to anyone. We agreed it would be better if people didn't know it was possible."

"Seven?" He was appalled.

She nodded.

"The locket, the diary, the ring, the cup, the diadem, Nagini the snake and… Harry himself," she recited. "You found the locket first, of course. We destroyed it- Ron did actually- with the Sword of Gryffindor. Harry destroyed the diary, he didn't know what it was then, of course, in our second year with a basilisk fang- and then we used that to destroy Hufflepuff's cup as well during the war. Voldemort destroyed the one in Harry. That's how he survived the killing curse the second time.

"We searched for them all for months. Dumbledore researched them and destroyed the ring himself… that's where the curse that was killing him came from," she added.

It took a long time to explain the long search for the Horcruxes, the months spent in the tent almost entirely cut off from the world, trying to decipher Dumbledore's cryptic clues.

He held her hand in his throughout, and it gave her the strength to tell him of the darkest moments. Moments which she never spoke about, not even to Sirius.

How hopeless she had felt when Ron left. The terrible, heavy anger that fell upon you when you were wearing the locket and how that wore on you as the weeks passed. How she had felt so betrayed by Harry when Ron returned, when he blamed her for his wand breaking.

How much she had sacrificed for him, without thanks or acknowledgement.

And he held her hand, gave her comfort in a way Ron had never understood; a simple gesture which spoke a thousand words.

Finally she finished telling him of her life since entering the Wizarding world, of her war. It had grown dark, and she guessed that it was past six.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. It had been hours since they'd eaten lunch.

"I am actually. Let me take you out."

She was surprised, and a little confused. Did he mean a date? Or just a friendly meal? She wished men would be more open with what they meant, instead of saying something and assuming you knew what they meant. They'd better start as they- maybe, possibly- meant to go on.

"Take me out how? And where? I thought we were hiding?"

"We can go to Muggle London. Your Valentine's Day was ruined, let me make it up to you."

He still held her hand, and when he smiled into her eyes she was lost.

"Okay," she whispered. "But we can't go to Muggle London- you have no Muggle clothes and Ron's won't fit you. Besides, I don't want you to wear _them_."

"And all my money is in Galleons. It's fine, I know somewhere very discreet. May I use your owl?"

She nodded. "Yes, Sappho is in my study. Where are we going? Do I need to dress up?"

"Well, yes actually. It's just off Capitoline Square. Or it was at least; I'm suppose we'll find out."

Capitoline Square was where the wizarding elite could find restaurants, shops, flats and Gentlemen's clubs. It was found by walking through Knockturn Alley, through Belenus Road, which was still the chosen haunt of young Purebloods who had not yet inherited. Belenus Road was a wide, elegant boulevard with tall trees on either side, built in what a muggle would recognize as the Regency style and named for the Celtic god of heat.

Capitoline Square was similarly styled architecturally, with a small park in the centre, about a half-a-mile across. It was not, like Diagon Alley, cobbled, but paved with pale stone slabs. There were shops and restaurants lining the square, cafés, inns and two hotels as well as several exclusive clubs. Hermione rarely had need to go into the district, which was the Wizarding equivalent of Mayfair and Park Lane.

Off Capitoline Square there were several small residential areas, such as Knottisford Court, Whelten Row, and access to now disused streets such as Grimmauld Place.

"I'll change while you write your note then?"

"As if you needed any embellishment... However, it is an exclusive restaurant and a certain level of dress is required. I shall have to rely on my wand."

"Thank the gods you had the presence of mind to keep it in your coffin with you then," she teased.

"Coffin? You do me an injustice, wench."

She laughed and beckoned for him to follow her to her small study. Sappho, her beautiful Tawny Owl sat on his elegant perch, as wise and beautiful as ever. He greeted her with an affectionate nip and then inspected Regulus carefully before treating him to the same welcome.

"He likes you. He doesn't like many people; I think he can sense intelligence."

"Did you just compliment me, Miss Granger? Or perhaps insult yourself."

She rolled her eyes at his flippant tone; his mood seemed to have dramatically lightened and he reminded her more of Sirius than ever.

"He didn't like Ron all that much, perhaps that should speak for itself."

He laughed and bent over the desk, scribing his note in that increasingly familiar hand. She watched him for a moment; incredibly, painfully aware of his careless elegance in every movement and gesture.

Then she hurried to her room to don her favourite, backless ice-blue silk robes.

xxx

He was waiting for her in the Sitting Room, gracefully sprawling in an armchair, eyes shut contentedly. He opened one, and then both when he saw her.

"Merlin, you're stunning," he breathed. "Come into the light… breath-taking."

She felt self-conscious suddenly. His simple alterations to the expensive robes he had been preserved in brought out his silvery eyes and he had somehow shaved his small beard and tidied his now-shorter hair to stop just above his chin.

"You're quite the picture yourself, Mr Black. The silver… we match rather well." She had been going to comment on how striking his eyes looked when his navy robes were trimmed in swathes of silver silk but had stopped herself, forcing flippancy rather than stammering admiration.

Gathering her poise, she squared her shoulders.

"How are we getting to your mysterious restaurant?"

"Apparate there. Secrecy, remember?"

"Yes, I can only imagine what a callous, gold-digging bitch the press would paint me as if they managed to get wind of this."

"I have warned the owner on pain of death not to reveal anything of our circumstances. I cannot hide forever, but I would like one night. Happy Valentine's Day," he stood, and seemed to conjure a white rose from nowhere. Magic. He pinned it to her hair and then, incredibly gently, pressed his lips to hers.

The heat flared between them instantly, and he pulled her flush against him, wrapping one arm around her waist and cupping her face with the other.

"You really are amazing," he declared.

She blushed again. No man had ever brought the pink flashing into her cheeks with the frequency and alacrity he did. Bastard.

"We'd better go, or I shan't let you out of this flat," he murmured, kissing her again. "Do you have your wand?"

"Of course."

He looked her up and down, puzzled.

"Where have you hidden it, you naughty witch?"

"It's in an invisible holster on my calf. I can summon it easily if need be. I don't know where we're going to you're going to have to take me with you."

It was amazing, how comfortable she felt with him in such a short time. An easy familiarity was already springing up between them, despite her staggering attraction to him.

And apparently his for her, she thought a little smugly, as he apparated them away, still locked in an embrace.

The restaurant didn't look like much from the outside. However, the smell of fish and garlic and lemon wafting out transported Hermione to France; the scent of a truly talented, authentic cook.

"Well, this is _Sigil_. The most exclusive restaurant in Wizarding London. It's a rather well kept secret… and thankfully a Black can always get a table."

"So, what it's like the Wizarding version of _The Ivy_?"

"I have no idea what that is I'm afraid. Is it a Muggle thing?"

Hermione just laughed and shook her head.

Soon, they were secreted at a private table on a small balcony, hidden from the rest of the diners. Hermione looked down over the rest of the restaurant from her vantage point and saw a collection of wealthy, powerful figures who had lasted through the war and come out, catlike, on their feet.

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were seated at one of the better tables, near the roaring fire. She admired the simple, old-fashioned French décor; the rich, dark walls, the hovering chandeliers, and tiny balls of soft light that clustered around the tables, bathing the occupants in a warm glow.

A small man, dressed in plain dark robes appeared, bowing obsequiously.

"May I take your drinks order, Mr. Black sir?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Hermione? Would you like wine?"

"White, please, if we're having fish."

He smiled sweetly at her, his beautiful face softened in the gentle radiance. His change in demeanour from shaking, white faced in her arms to this self-assured, aristocratic gentleman was awe-inspiring and she wondered at the cause.

"We'll take some champagne first, I think. Does that suit you, my love?"

_My love. _Her insides melted at the endearment.

"That would be lovely, thank you."

He ordered a fine vintage and the small man disappeared. Moments later, the bottle, charmed to stay cold, and two champagne flutes appeared on the table.

"Champagne, like any proper wine, is one of those few things that cannot be improved by magic," he commented as he opened the bottle and poured it.

"Here's to you. I couldn't have had a kinder or more beautiful rescuer. Happy second Valentine's Day."

He raised his glass to her, and sipped it, keeping his eyes on hers. Heat pooled in her stomach and the traitorous blush flew to her cheeks.

"And to you, ingenious man. The only Death Eater ever to escape, I believe. I'm still all agog to hear the story."

"I'm sure it's much less glamorous than you think. The wards, on the cave, didn't work for house-elf magic. _He _was so arrogant it wouldn't occur to him to think of those he considered beneath him. A goblin could also have escaped I believe. Anyway, house-elves can transport humans under their magic. Kreacher took me out of the cave." He paused, looking past her to some distant memory. His face had darkened with it and she wondered if he would stop, change the subject, but he continued. "I knew he would track me down and try to kill me. I sent Kreacher back to plant 'evidence' of my death in the cave, just in case. I knew I had to cover all precautions you see. I went to the goblins, to seek shelter, which I bought by returning some goblin-made family heirlooms."

Another long pause, as he gathered his thoughts.

"I was inspired by a Vampire I'd read of, and the way they can lie for years in their coffins untouched by time… so I procured a chest made of cedar wood which is particularly receptive to spells for preservation. I warded it with every form of _Statis_ and time spell I could research in the two days I allowed myself. There was goblin and elf magic that wizards know nothing of, everything I could get access to. Old, Egyptian spells used on Canopic jars and in the Pyramids to hold time away... I'd spent rather a lot of my time at Hogwarts reading."

"Will you tell me the spells, write them down?"

"Yes," he smiled at her although his eyes were still haunted by some dark memory. "I will satisfy your intellectual curiosity, all that I can remember. After I'd made the chest, I laid my clues for Sirius- or so I meant- in Grimmauld Place. I charmed the tapestry to reveal my note when alcohol was spilled on it." He gave her a grave look. "I imagined that, once my parents had died and the house had passed to him, he would throw something at it in anger… and he drank a lot, even then."

"He still does, although not dangerously. I keep an eye on him."

"Thank you, I'm more grateful than I could ever- you are the best of people. Had I not been so bigoted in my youth…" he shook his head angrily.

"There is no time for regrets Regulus. You are a better, stronger man than you know, I think."

"You are too compassionate. I wrote the riddles for him… the plays on my name, for example, I expected only him to understand. Then I altered Kreacher's memories, so that if ordered to tell the truth, he would truly believe I had died in the lake and ordered him to destroy the Horcrux. I had no time to do it myself. It was difficult to put the locks in his mind, more complicated than for a human. It's a skill I'd learned from the Dark- from Voldemort himself.

"After that all that was left was to hide the second key to the vault, there are only two; the vault and the money are my inheritance from my Great-Uncle. I spelled my body, different spells for every part, and essentially froze time in the chest, with an enormous amount of help again from the goblins. And then they sealed me away… and there I lay for twenty years until fate delivered you to me."

"That's… incredible. You make it sound so simple, which I'm sure it wasn't. You must have been- must still be- an incredibly powerful wizard."

"No, my dear, merely a cowardly one. It's amazing what people do to save their own skins, Hermione. I was terrified. I knew what he would do if he found me, discovered my betrayal before I could hide. I should have fought, should have gone to Dumbledore."

"You were one person, Regulus. Harry had, gods, _endless_ people to help him. Largely Dumbledore of course… and I'm glad you chose to live."

"Then with that I shall have to be satisfied."

His lie was unconvincing and she knew it would be a long time before he forgave himself. She reached out and took his hand.

"Do you truly believe in fate?" she asked, bringing the topic to a lighter subject. There would be other times to talk of his war, as she had of hers.

"I do now. Not fate, perhaps. Lady Luck certainly." His tone was jesting and she relaxed, awed again at his ability to shake off despondency.

xxx

They ordered their food, and spent the next courses getting to know the more trivial aspects of each other's characters. Music, books (he had read _Hogwarts; A History_ seven times and shared many of her favourite Wizarding classics) and memories of Hogwarts.

"I promise you'd like it, once you got used to there not being any magic."

"Tess sounds rather a soft touch, Hermione. I like my heroines with a bit of fire in them. Intelligent, beautiful and confident."

"You are ridiculously cheesy, Regulus."

"I like to think I'm charming."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't deny to herself the clear truth. He was charming. So charming it should be illegal, and witty and clever, funny and beautiful.

She'd never thought it was possible to fall for someone so quickly, but she was.

And Ron, who only the previous day, she had believed herself in love with. Merlin, how oblivious she had been. Whatever she had felt for him paled in contrast to her growing feelings for the wizard sitting across from her.

And that complicated matters.

"Oh my gods," she breathed, swallowing her exquisite mouthful of langoustine. "I'm meant to be at a party for Kingsley- the Minister, I think you'll like him- tomorrow evening. I'd completely forgotten."

He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful and then, "Would that be the best time to introduce myself? Get it all over and done with at once… we'd have to tell Sirius beforehand." He looked slightly green at the thought and then gave a wicked grin. "At least it'll overshadow your break-up in the papers."

"No, they'll just use the opportunity to drag my name further through the mud."

Suddenly, she didn't care. If people judged her, they could just fuck off, she decided.

"I suppose that's our romantic getaway to Devon postponed," he said cheerfully.

"Postponed?"

"Certainly. You've made the mistake of telling me about this beautiful little cottage, and now I'm going to take you there and keep you there, preferably in the bed but there are other options of course. I will learn everything about that ravishing body, what makes you scream and sigh and moan."

His eyes had turned molten, and he gazed at her with undisguised desire that heated her body.

"I think that could be arranged," she murmured, ashamed at the huskiness of her voice.

"And when the weather has improved, I'll take you to my house in Provence."

"Oh, I adore Provence. Do you really have a house there?"

"Mmm, courtesy of Great-Uncle Regulus, who died two years before I was born. There's a lake and a river… endless gardens and the beautiful mountains. It's blissful. You'll love it. And it is nothing like Grimmauld Place, thank the gods."

"We've redecorated rather a lot. I hope you'll approve."

"Trust me darling, it could only be improved."

"You're very different from how I imagined. I was always led to believe you were a typical… Black, if you'll excuse the slight to your ancestors."

"I was, in a way, although I longed to be more like Sirius. I was weak. Now I am free to live as I like… thanks to you. Aphrodite herself, in those robes. You're blushing again, do I make you nervous?"

He was disarmingly frank.

"No, but you throw me off-guard when you say things like that. I… I've never really been complimented all that much."

"Then your Weasley was more of a fool than I thought."

"Poor Ron, he'll be heartbroken," she sighed. "I hate to ask," she continued shyly, "but what exactly are we? I know I've only known you for less than a day but…"

"I've waited twenty years for you, Hermione, and I could spend the next twenty and twenty more waiting for you."

"What do you mean?"

"You've been brought up under different customs from me… I want to court you, Hermione. I want to make you mine, forever, and give myself to you. I don't think I've ever felt so sure of anything in my life."

"Even though I'm a Muggleborn?"

"That helps, if anything. I'm probably some form of cousin to every Pureblood witch in Britain, and most of the Half-Bloods. I mean it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Love isn't easy, I know that. You have to work at it, but between us there's something more- even now, after mere hours- than most people find after a lifetime."

She was shocked at his self-assurance, but she knew, she understood what he meant.

"Okay. We'll try that then. You… courting me. I'm a modern woman, though. I love my job and my career and I- I'm going to court you too. It's only fair."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Tell me about your work, you mentioned house-elves earlier. Are you in Magical Law Enforcement? I can imagine you decimating the opposition in court." He grinned at the thought and eyed her admiringly.

"Yes. I went back to Hogwarts after the war and got my NEWTs, and then I joined the Department… I've always wanted to change things, to try and bring the Wizarding up to date on so many things, like equality. Not just between Muggleborns and Pure-bloods but rights for goblins, Centaurs, Merpeople, and most importantly to me anyway, House-elves. It's so hard though, the Wizengamot is stuck in the equivalent of Imperial Britain and getting anything through it will be so hard."

"I wanted to be a lawyer too. Perhaps I'll join you. My parents were scandalised when I told them. Apparently Blacks do not work." His tone was bitter, regretful. "I let them control me, of course."

"Well, you are free to choose your own path now, Regulus. Speaking of the Ministry, I think we should write to Kingsley in the morning to get you made officially er 're-alive'. Rescind your death, get your papers sorted. And warn him about your appearance at his party."

It would be a night to remember, she was sure. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen. Before he could answer, the discrete man appeared, bowed to them and asked if they would like any further service.

"Would you clear the table away? I would like to dance with my lady," Regulus said politely, but with an unmistakeable air of command that demanded respect.

"Certainly, Sir."

They stood, and Hermione watched as the table shimmered slightly and then vanished, along with its contents.

"Some more champagne, I think?" Regulus looked to her for confirmation and she nodded. "And some music, thank you."

He bowed again and disappeared through the curtain at the back of the balcony.

Moments later a silvery light engulfed the balcony, and soft violins began to play. He returned, holding a silver tray with the glasses, filled with the pale gold liquid and set it to float at the edge of the balcony.

"Dance with me?" Regulus held out his hand.

"I did tell you how cheesy you are, right?" she commented, taking his hand. The atmosphere was almost unbearably romantic as he held her close in the soft light. She leaned against him, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I can't help it… I'm falling for you so quickly I can barely believe it."

She lifted her head to look up at him, breathtakingly beautiful face lit with some inner joy that outshone the floating balls of light.

He bent his head to kiss her tenderly, capturing her lips, and she melted into him.

Whatever spell he'd cast over her, she was utterly bewitched. Heart of the lion, indeed. Desire consumed her like an eternal flame and she was lost in his embrace, champagne and music easily forgotten.

* * *

Gag. Regulus is cheesier than cheese on toast. Hahaha, I don't normally write (or read) such fluff, so I find reading it hard. If you like it, let me know. If you hate it, let me know that too! Basically... if you're still out there, let me know.

A


	4. Of Brothers and Beauty and a Ball

_"Here's a sigh to those that love me,_

_And a smile to those who hate;_

_And, whatever sky's above me,_

_Here's a heart for every fate_."

~ To Thomas Moore

George Gordon, Lord Byron

_"... He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightening, or frost from fire."_

_~Wuthering Heights._

* * *

Regulus woke early, aware of the warm body pressed against him. He wrapped an arm carefully around her and lay contentedly, basking in her warmth. She was unbelievable, the kind of woman he had only dreamt about.

Beautiful, more intelligent than anyone he'd ever met, witty, compassionate... and glorious in bed. Their love-making had been tender and had grown more confident as they explored each others' bodies.

Peering through the dim light from the street lamps to the clock on her bedroom wall, he saw that it was a little after four. He felt wide awake, however. Perhaps that was a side effect of sleeping for twenty years. Knowing he wouldn't get back to sleep, he sat up, regretfully leaving Hermione's delicious body. He would hate to wake her up.

Looking around her room he spied a book on her bedside table. Leaning cautiously across her, he picked it up and read the title.

**_Tess of the D'Urbervilles_**

It was the book she had been talking about the night before, he realised. He opened it to a random page nearing the end and read,

_As soon as she drew close to it she discovered all in a moment that the figure was a living person; and the shock to her sense of not having been alone was so violent that she was quite overcome, and sank down nigh to fainting, not however till she had recognized Alec d'Urberville in the form. He leapt off the slab and supported her. "I saw you come in," he said smiling, "and got up there not to interrupt your meditations. A family gathering, is it not, with these old fellows under us here? Listen." He stamped with his heel heavily on the floor; whereupon there arose a hollow echo from below. "That shook them a bit, I'll warrant," he continued. "And you thought I was the mere stone reproduction of one of them. But no. The old order changeth. The little finger of the sham d'Urberville can do more for you than the whole dynasty of the real underneath. . . . Now command me. What shall I do?"_

His interest piqued, Regulus rose quietly from the bed and crept out of the room, clutching the book.

After magically making himself a coffee in Hermione's confusingly Muggle kitchen, he settled down on her sofa wrapped in a blanket and began to read.

_Phase the First: The Maiden_

_Chapter I_

On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining Vale of Blakemore or Blackmoor...

Five hours later, Hermione walked into her sitting room and stopped in surprise. Regulus was curled up, reading, with tears pouring down his face. She stood quietly in the doorway, watching him in the first utterly unguarded moment since he had been awoken. He made for such a ridiculous and unexpected sight that she couldn't contain her giggles. Any awkward morning-after feelings she'd had dissolved as the laughter bubbled up.

"Morning, Reg-Regulus."

He dropped the book like a small child caught stealing and sat up, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. Even then he was graceful. It really was a little unfair.

"Oh, I think it has that effect on everyone. You should have seen me the first time I read it." She rolled her eyes. "I was in absolute floods. Like a tap. Or a waterfall."

He smiled a watery smile.

"Fucking Angel, what a hypocrite," he said. "I like this book. I've been up since four... only one chapter left now. Come and kiss me."

She walked over and caught his salty lips in a passionate kiss.

"You finish that and I'll make us some breakfast. Then we'd better go and see Sirius. I'll write a note to warn him."

She had written him a brief note the evening before, simply saying: _Sirius, I've uncovered a rather interesting mystery. I hope you forgive my day of keeping it to myself before I share it with you, but you will find it... surprising. A good sort of surprising, I hope. I am feeling much better, I love you and will see you tomorrow or the next day I expect. Kisses, H_

"Tell him to be sitting, waiting for you in the drawing room with a very big glass of firewhisky."

She laughed slightly, but hugged him when she saw the nervousness he was trying to conceal.

"It'll be fine, I promise you," she whispered. "One day, at least."

He kissed her again, languorously exploring her mouth.

"I'd better let you finish Tess. Then we can chat about it over coffee and... cooked breakfast? Croissants? I'm having pain au chocolat, but I can make you whatever you like."

"What you're having is perfect, my love."

She beamed at him and wandered off to send Sappho to Sirius.

_Sirius,_

_I have a surprise for you. Whatever your first impression, I hope you'll realise it is a good one. Will you wait for me in your drawing room? I'll be there at eleven. __**H x**_

_PS- you might want to have a stiff drink ready._

Humming to herself, Hermione floated a tray-full of breakfast in front of her as she returned to the front room. She laid it out on the table by the wide window. Her flat was in the Wizarding annex of The Temple, where the Muggle barristers had their Inns of Court. The beautiful building stood overlooking the Thames, next to Middle Temple Gardens, which gave her a magnificent view out over one of her favourite parts of London and down the river in both directions.

"I've finished," Regulus said sadly. "Poor bloody woman. Listen, it's just horrendous... _"Justice" was done, and the President of the Immortals, in Aeschylean phrase, had ended his sport with Tess. And the d'Urberville knights and dames slept on in their tombs unknowing. The two speechless gazers bent themselves down to the earth, as if in prayer, and remained thus a long time, absolutely motionless: the flag continued to wave silently. As soon as they had strength they arose, joined hands again, and went on. _It reminds me of my awful bloody family, a bit. Names mean nothing really, do they?"

"They have their place, I suppose, but they shouldn't take over one's life or give someone a license for cruelty."

"I rather sympathised with Alec." He stood gracefully, walked over to the window and poured them both a coffee. "This looks delicious by the way."

"I did too, actually," she admitted, "partly because I found Angel absolutely intolerable as a character."

"Alec didn't have the easiest life. His Mother was a right bitch to him... and if you're told you are a certain way, it's hard to not be that way." He closed his eyes for a moment, sipping his coffee, and then continued. "I suppose I empathise."

"He attempted to redeem himself in his own way, but didn't understand the concept of unselfish love. He shouldn't have emotionally blackmailed Tess. I think that's the part I found difficult. His support for her family should have been separate from their romantic interests. He's amoral, in a way you are not though, Regulus. Don't compare yourself to him too much."

"I won't. Fate was cruel to Tess. Class, names and blood and birth and everything, doesn't matter at all does it? At least, it doesn't give one an automatic right over someone else. I wonder how my parents could have lived a life so deluded."

Several owls appeared at the window, disturbing their conversation. Hermione sighed and stood to let them in. She broke off pieces of the French stick that accompanied the pain au chocolat and fed them each a bit.

She read Sirius' note first. He was clearly curious, but agreeable to her proposition.

"Sirius will be waiting with a large snifter of brandy at eleven," she duly reported.

He nodded. "Thank you. Without you there... I don't know if I could face him. I want his forgiveness and love so much."

"He will forgive you, Regulus. He's lost too many people to bear a grudge against you now. Did you know Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter are all dead? He's the only one left; it's terribly sad."

"I was so jealous of their friendship. Unbearably so. It seems petty of me now; I read about their deaths in the book you leant me."

"You were just a child who worshipped his brother. I have a confession actually." She blushed, remembering. "It feels like a terrible invasion now, but I was searching for the answer to your clue... I found the cubby hole in your bed-post, and read some of the letters from Sirius. I'm so sorry."

He sucked in a breath sharply and then nodded.

"I understand. You thought I was dead, after all. Gods, I'll never be able to hide anything from you will I? Clever witch."

"I hope you never feel you need to hide things from me, Regulus. I hate to stereotype by house, but a Slytherin way of hiding isn't needed with me... if we go anywhere, I want you to be able to tell me anything."

"Relationships are based on trust and all that? I can only promise to try. There will be things I keep to myself... I'm a very private person in many ways. But I hope I won't do anything that would need to be hidden from you."

He was sincere and honest, and she appreciated it. It was certainly a start.

"Who are the other letters from? It's nearly ten, by the way."

"Kingsley, saying it's fine if I drop in on him today," she said, glancing over the parchment. "Harry asking if I'm okay and also wants to see me today... I should go and see him actually. And Ron, I suppose."

"Why?" he seemed confused.

"To warn him that I won't be alone at the party tonight. To apologise for that, because it seems so cruel and heartless to take up with you immediately after breaking up with Ron. We should keep our relationship out of the public eye for a while... it's polite."

"As long as I can tell the world you belong to me one day- and vice versa of course, mon amour."

"Soon, shall we say a few weeks? Let them get used to your presence, and my break-up and then sort of gradually introduce the idea of there being an us. Of course, there will be speculation about it from this evening onwards." She clicked her fingers suddenly. "Dress robes! For you. We could make a stop in Capitoline Square if you want this afternoon. If you're feeling up to it."

"Oh, no that's fine. I'll get something from Grimmauld Place. If Sirius doesn't throw me out on sight, that is."

He wouldn't, she knew. Sirius was calmer than he had apparently been in his youth. He was still a passionate and impetuous man, but reason tempered his impulses now.

She squeezed his hand and then opened her last letter, leaving the paper for Regulus to read. She'd recognised Ron's writing before she opened the letter.

_Hermione,_

_I miss you already. I want to see you, I think we need to talk. I love you and I still want to marry you, but I'm willing to wait. However much time you think you need. I spoke to Mum and she said that you'll want to settle down one day, it's only natural after all, so I'm keeping my hopes up._

_Can I come back to the flat? Sorry I insulted it. I know we're meant to be together._

_Love,_

_Ron_

Unbelievable. She read it twice, growing angrier with each passing second.

Apparently, she was unnatural for wanting a career rather than children. Fucking Mrs. Weasley, who had never approved of Hermione, putting her foot in it yet again. The control she had over her children, particularly Ron and Percy, was incredible.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Regulus asked, charmingly but with a layer of concern undercutting his voice.

"Ron's mother is an almighty bitch sometimes. Read this," she spat, holding the letter out to him. "Unbelievable."

He started laughing half-way though and continued for far too long after he had finished reading, in Hermione's opinion.

"You can explain exactly what you find so funny while we're getting dressed."

He stood up and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his own. His hands laced into her hair and her body reacted even before her mind had registered the kiss. Pressing against him, she ran her hands up his back, digging her nails into his shoulder.

"How much time do we have?" he panted.

"Enough. Hurry," she replied, pulling the t-shirt he had borrowed to sleep in over his head to expose his glorious, marble smooth chest.

xxx

They didn't make it to Grimmauld Place until twenty-past eleven.

Arriving directly on the doorstep, Hermione waited a split-second for Regulus to join her, and then took his arm.

"You okay?" she whispered.

He nodded, looking green. "As I'll ever be, I suppose. Lend me some of your courage, would you, my lioness?"

She kissed him, sweetly and slowly.

"Better? Come on, we're already late. And for Merlin's sake, keep quiet."

She unlocked the door, and he followed her in, gazing in silent admiration and wonder at the vastly changed décor. And the lack of Mrs. Black's screeching portrait.

"She's in the attic, in a sound-proofed room if you want to go and visit her," Hermione whispered and then continued, shouting, "OI! Sirius, you upstairs?"

"Yeah, come on up, pet."

She led the way up the stairs, hoping that it was not too overwhelming to see his house so utterly changed.

"Wait out here for a moment," she gave him a swift kiss and disappeared into the room.

"Hey, Sirius," she said nervously, giving him a hug.

"Hello, love, Merlin you look fantastic," he said suspiciously. "Who're you shagging? It can't be Weasley making you look like that."

"Gods, you're perceptive. Sit down. I need you to promise me something."

"Anything for you. What's all this about, pet?" he sounded confused, but not too concerned. "You're not pregnant are you?" he added, panic suddenly coloring his voice.

"Don't be a prat. Sirius, it's about Regulus," she began softly.

"Poor bastard. What about him?"

"I've _found _him... there's no easy way of saying this but he's- oh fuck it, hang on." She ran to the door and, taking Regulus' hand, pulled him inside.

Sirius sat in silent shock. Then he stood slowly and crossed the room. Putting out a shaking hand, he gently touched Regulus' cheek.

"Reg?" His voice was husky with disbelief.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius. I've done so many awful things. I'm a coward and I'm weak. You were my hero, and my brother and I love you and I'm sorry." It came out in a garbled rush, and Hermione wondered how long Regulus would keep up the overtly frank-speaking act.

Sirius grabbed his face, searching it and then pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"How are you here? Why do you look- bloody hell, I really do need a drink." Sirius walked, slightly unsteadily, to the drinks table and poured a large glass of brandy. He tossed it down his throat and then waved the bottle at them. Regulus accepted gratefully.

Hermione took the opportunity to study them. Sirius, at six foot two, was a couple of inches taller than Regulus. His hair was a shade darker, his eyes purely grey where Regulus' were tinged with pale green or even darker, depending on his mood. Regulus had even more chiselled, defined features than Sirius but they moved with similar, careless grace. Regulus was more leonine; languorous and sleek.

And Sirius was now twenty years older than his brother.

But there was no denying that no matter how beautiful Sirius was, she felt no desire for him. Just looking at Regulus made her pulse race, and her cheeks turn dusky at the memory of his kisses and his touch. She was falling for him, faster than she had ever imagined possible.

Her mother had said she'd "just known" when she looked at Richard Granger. At last, Hermione could understand what she had meant.

"I think I'll leave you two to talk," she said quietly. "I'll go and see Kingsley, Ron and Harry. Is that alright?"

Regulus nodded and hugged her, holding her tightly against him for a moment. "Thank you," he whispered.

Sirius was watching them appraisingly, she realised and she blushed that damned blush again. He knew, of course he knew, and she wasn't sure how he'd react. She hugged him as well.

"I'll be back later," she promised. "Please listen to each other and don't fight or anything," she added worriedly.

"We'll be fine," he promised. "I don't understand any of this but I'm sure I owe you an enormous thanks for this."

xxx

She Apparated to outside Kingsley's beautiful house in Whelten Row, a street of handsome houses in London's Wizarding district.

The wards announced her presence and he appeared at the door.

"Hello, Hermione, come on in," he greeted her, smiling. "Sorry about your Ron, if that's all true."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Kingsley."

"Well, fair enough. I never thought you were particularly suited. Isabel's just made some coffee, she's in the kitchen."

Hermione hugged Kingsley's beautiful, kind wife; a witch she was genuinely fond of.

"Hello, darling, I'm so sorry not to be able to stay and chat but I've got last minute preparations for tonight." She examined Hermione's face closely. "You look distressingly beautiful, lucky thing. We must catch up soon."

"Thank you, is there anything I can do?"

"Just turn up and be your usual glorious self."

"I'm bringing a plus-one, I hope that's alright. His presence might cause some scandal."

"Goodness, how wildly exciting. I can't wait to hear all about him." She glanced at her watch regretfully. "Promise to introduce me tonight?"

"Of course! Now, don't let me keep you."

When Isabel had vanished in a flurry of bluebell perfume and merry, flustered presence, Kingsley sat down at the table and put his feet up contentedly.

"Now, how's my second favourite witch?"

"I really am fine, Kings." She grinned at the handsome ex-Auror, who she had grown close to during the war. "I have to explain something that's going to sound very strange. I'm not really sure where to start. Do you remember Sirius' younger brother, Regulus?"

"Vaguely, he was one of Voldemort's lot wasn't he?"

"He turned against him at the end, and we thought he died getting a Horcrux. Do you remember?"

They had explained the tale to Kingsley after the war, and he had agreed that it was better kept from the wizarding public.

"Well, to cut a long story short... he's not actually dead," she continued.

Kingsley choked on his coffee.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" His face was stony, and confused.

"It's true, I swear."

"I know; that's why I'm shocked. Explain."

"Don't go all Aurory on me, Kings. He's not going to be the cause of any nefarious deeds. He's much more like Sirius, actually," she said earnestly. "He was locked away in a Gringotts vault, with a load of time-freezing spells to hide from Voldemort... obviously he wasn't expecting to be in there for over twenty years but there we are. I've left him at Grimmauld Place to reunite- I hope- with his brother."

"Bloody hell, Hermione. This is all very irregular."

She grinned at him.

"He's a pretty decent bloke, I think you'll like him. He's very charming and intelligent."

He let out a low whistle.

"My gods, you've fallen for him! You can't hide anything from me."

She nodded, embarrassed.

"Yes... and that I'm a Muggleborn should be proof enough that he's all in the clear."

"So what do you need? Presumably I'll have to officially reconfirm him as, well, alive," Kingsley said, shaking his head. "Only you could find a frozen Death Eater-turned-good twenty years after he apparently died, or didn't die, and then _fall _for him."

"I know," she groaned. "I can't help it, he's... well, I think he's wonderful," she added, blushing.

"This is going to cause uproar. I think we can avoid trying him as no one knows he was a Death Eater."

She looked appalled at the statement.

"That's corrupt."

"No, Hermione. I remember him now; Harry talked to me about it a lot before Sirius returned. What _is _it about these Blacks? Must be something in their blood. Born survivors, both of them," he said admiringly. "Anyway, he's already proved his innocence as far as I'm concerned and I don't think the world needs yet another Death Eater trial. He was only sixteen when he joined, is that right? So he'd get off anyway for being a minor."

"Fine," she relented, knowing she wouldn't be able to bear sitting through the judgment of the world falling upon his shoulders. "How are we going to explain it?"

"Fucked if I know," Kingsley said frankly. "I suppose we'll just say he was wanted by Voldemort and hid, but was stuck for much longer than he meant to be or something. It can't be as complicated as sorting out all Sirius' affairs when he came back. That was hellish."

"To say the least. I was still at Hogwarts, of course."

"Swot. You didn't need to go back, of course. You still sure you don't want to transfer to being an Auror?"

"Yep," she said cheerfully. Knowing that Kingsley would give Regulus his public support was a huge weight off her shoulders. "I love being a lawyer."

They chatted comfortably for a while and she explained how she had found Regulus.

"Gods, is that the time?" she said rhetorically, surprised as his clock sounded for one o'clock. "I've got to go and see Harry, then Ron and explain. I'll see you at Grimmauld Place at seven for drinks before your fancy ball?"

"Yes, make sure you look ravishing. Isabel will be rushing around being social all night and I'll need someone to ogle," he replied good-naturedly.

"Only if you save me a dance, Minister."

"Of course- now off you go."

xxx

_It is obvious that we can no more explain a passion to a person who has never experienced it than we can explain light to the blind. _

~ T. S. Eliot

xxx

Hermione sat staring at her hands, hating the awkward silence, and furious with Harry. She was sitting at his table, opposite Ron, with Harry at the head.

_Stupid, interfering boy. _He meant well, of course. And he couldn't understand that Ron seemed a lifetime ago, that since he had last seen her she had lived a millennium, had changed and-

-fallen in love?

She wasn't entirely sure, but it was possible. Mere hours and she felt new, different. As thought she were floating.

"Did you get my letter?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, it arrived this morning."

"And?"

"Ron, I love you but I'm not in love with you anymore. Coming here was a mistake; I should go back to Grimmauld Place."

"No, Hermione, please don't leave," Harry said. "You had something important to tell me."

He shot a warning look at Ron, who nodded.

"Regulus Black is alive."

They instantly began talking over each other.

"What?! You can't possibly-"

"- ridiculous, lost her mind-"

"- dead, remember? In the cave-"

"-mental, I knew it-"

"Shut up, boys, I'm not in the mood for your senseless babbling," she said pleasantly. "Regulus is very much alive and if you'd let me, I will explain."

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said. Ron looked mutinous but was silent.

She quickly summarised how she had found Regulus.

"He's with Sirius at the moment. I hope they're still alright."

"Are you staying with Sirius?" Ron asked, suspiciously.

"No, Ronald. I'm staying with Regulus. Or, rather, he is staying with me."

"What?"

She ignored him.

"Anyway, Harry, he's very nice. Not at all what I'd imagined. He seems to have lost all his prejudices as well. You'll meet him tonight."

"What's happening tonight?" They both looked confused.

"Oh _honestly_, it's Kingsley's birthday ball. I'm bringing Regulus; it seems like a good time to announce his presence to the world."

"Are you shagging him?" Ron asked angrily.

"Oh, Ron," she sighed. "I wish you hadn't insisted on doing this here... I was coming to talk to you this afternoon. Harry, I think you'd better leave us for a minute."

"No, Harry, stay. Whatever you say to me, Harry can hear too."

She looked at them. Harry's face was serious, concerned and guilty. Had he too seen that bringing Ron here was a mistake? Or would he take his side, as usual? Ron's ears were scarlet and his neck flushing an ugly shade of red in anger. Well, if he insisted on getting nasty, she wasn't going to back down.

"Fine. Ron, I've said it several times now and there's really no remaining kind way of saying it. I can't marry you, not ever. You don't understand that I need a career, nor will you ever really understand me. You don't make my skin burn at the slightest touch, or desire heat my entire body just by looking at me. You don't see the romantic in me, underneath the bookworm. You never tell me that you think I'm beautiful. You don't make me feel sexy, wanted and cherished."

She angrily dashed the tears from her eyes.

"You deserve someone who will make you happy, and that's not me... you don't _know _me. How could you ask me to give up my life to have your children? How dare you? I didn't kill myself working at school to turn into your mother. If you could ask that of me, you don't know me at all. You _can't_ love me, if you want me to be like that. I will never, never want that life. Children, yes, but I want to work. I want to change the ridiculous, unfair and outdated laws about house-elves and werewolves, and you _mock _me for it. It's a joke to you and that is disgusting to me. It's my passion, my belief, and you would have me give it up for you."

She was standing up, she realised, and the tears were running down her face. She sat back down slowly, unsure of what bridges she had just burned.

But she had been honest, and it felt amazing.

"I do love you, Hermione! I have forever. We're meant to be together, why can't you see that? Marry me, and have your career too. Anything you want."

He was so oblivious, why couldn't he, why wouldn't he see?

"No, we're really, really not. I'm sorry, but I can't. Harry, I should go. I'll see you both tonight."

"Hermione, are you in love with Sirius?" Harry asked quietly, green eyes burning.

"What? My god, no. He's like a brother to me."

The words were out before she could stop them. "No, not Sirius. I'm falling for Regulus Black. I've never- I'm so sorry. I can't help it. I think I'm half in love with him already. He's simply the most exciting, enticing man I have ever met."

She stood and fled from the room.

xxx

_"Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs: he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter."_

~ Friedrich Nietzsche

xxx

She went, as she often did when upset, straight to Grimmauld Place. However, it wasn't Sirius she sought this time, but the comforting arms of her lover.

When she arrived in the entrance hall, she heard raucous laughter drifting down the stairs. It filled her with pleasure, and she stopped her tears, wiping her face. Elated at the thought that they were resolving their differences, that they had taken the first baby steps to becoming brothers again, she walked up the stairs. Regulus' voice drifted through the door.

"... Aunt Elladora's disgusting display of heads in her will."

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten that. I think the best thing I was ever left was a vial of dried blood from Uncle Cygnus- to 'remind' me."

"They're all dead now, thank the gods. I checked in this fantastic history book Hermione leant me, covering the last thirty years."

"She's got you reading already, mate? What's going on between you two, anyway?"

"I'm going to marry that woman one day," Regulus said simply. "If she'll have me."

So he was serious about courting her. Hermione sighed and leaned against the wall.

Marriage still seemed so far away... a perfect ideal she would never reach and wasn't sure she wanted to. She glanced at her watch; it was past lunchtime.

"Afternoon, boys," she said, opening the door. "Glad to see you're both still alive."

Sirius swooped her up in his arms and twirled her round.

"You beautiful creature. You've given me my brother back," he declared. "He's explained how you did it, clever little witch... I owe you so much."

"Put me down, Sirius. You don't owe me anything, it makes me happy to see you happy."

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "If he hurts you, he'll have to answer to me."

"I love you too, Padfoot. Now put me down for Merlin's sake."

Regulus took one look at her face and wrapped his arms around her.

"What's wrong, my love?"

"I lost my best friend today."

"Harry took Ron's side?" Sirius asked, shocked.

"No, I meant Ron. He was there when I went to see Harry and he kept pushing me," she said, pulling Regulus to sit down with her and leaning against his chest as she explained.

"He wrote this stupid, _stupid _letter to me this morning, about how we were meant to be together and how I'd want to settle down one day and have his children, and then he was saying more of the same when I went to see him and it was just so frustrating! He wouldn't listen to what I was saying; that I knew I could never marry him, that I wasn't in love with him. He made me so angry and I just spilled out all this stuff that was wrong with our relationship... And then he proposed, again. You'd think he'd get the hint, but apparently not and it's all fucking Mrs. Weasley's fault. Anyway I told him about you," she twisted to face Regulus, blushing, "said I was falling for you... so the whole 'keeping it a secret' thing? Clearly not going to work terribly well."

He kissed her head gently. "I don't care what the world thinks, as long as they don't slate you too much, my darling."

"You two are nauseating already," said Sirius, sounding appalled. "I hope I find a pretty young witch with no expectations tonight. I need someone to lick off all this sugariness."

"Urgh, Sirius, that was unnecessary imagery," Hermione said, eyes shut. "Now, you need to go and hunt down some dress robes. If you look like you walked out of the eighteen hundreds then I'm not going to be your date," she added sweetly to Regulus.

Sirius coughed something that sounded suspiciously like 'whipped,' but stood up.

"Borrow something of mine if you want, mate."

"I'm wearing dark purple. So black or silver would be best."

Where Ron would have looked at her as though she was insane, then gone ahead and worn whatever new robes he'd managed to find to clash completely with his hair, both Blacks nodded thoughtfully.

"Aubergine?" Regulus asked, "or more of a royal purple?"

"No, it's aubergine. Silk."

"I'll just wear black then, my beautiful."

"Are you going to stay here and get ready?" Sirius asked him. "I've asked him to move back in, but he said he needed to talk to you first."

"We'll discuss it later. I'll come and get you at six thirty, Hermione?"

"I'll just Apparate over when I'm ready," she countered. It was a nice but ridiculous thought that he should come and escort her. "Don't forget to feed him, Sirius."

He kissed her goodbye sweetly and she Apparated back to her flat.

xxx

The purple taffeta gown was hardly inconspicuous, Hermione reflected, as she eyed herself critically in the mirror. Cinched in at the waist, it emphasised her slender curves, wrapping them in layers of crinkled silk. It was an eye-catching dress, which she'd bought for an outrageous price in New York the previous year and never worn because it clashed with Ron's hair.

She fixed her diamond earrings in her ears and patted her elegantly coiled hair. If she was going to be photographed by the press, at least she'd look nice.

And hopefully Regulus would think so, too. Her stomach flipped as she remembered the night before, so tender, and then the passionate, fast love-making of that morning.

It was ten to seven. With one last check in the mirror, she Apparated to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius was holding a small drinks party before the ball.

"Merlin, you look incredible, Hermione," Sirius said as he took her coat. "Give us a twirl... if you can." He winked and eyed her up and down.

"Oh, be quiet."

"Harry and Ginny are already here. They're getting to know Regulus," he whispered. "Go on up, I'm on door duty. The Weasleys'll be here soon... sorry."

"It's fine, I have to see them at some point. Why not now? I knew they were coming. Who else will be here?"

"Andromeda, Kingsley and Isabel, the Greengrasses- and sadly cousin Draco as he's Astoria's date, apparently- a few Ministry people, Aberforth," he grinned, "Emmeline Vance, because I still want to shag her, Hestia... and some more people- I can't remember. Oh, Luna, Neville, Dean."

"Lovely, I'll see you upstairs then."

She hesitated outside the large, rarely used downstairs drawing room, suddenly feeling ostentatious in her statement dress. It was too big, too eye-catching; she would look ridiculous. Forcing her nerves down, and remembering her mother's advice that you can pull _anything _off it you're confident enough, she squared her shoulders and walked into the room.

Floating candles in elegant silver sconces leant the room warmth. Harry and Ginny had their backs to her, talking to Regulus who was holding a bottle of champagne. There were a few other people in the room. She was thankful to see that the witches had gone all out for the Minister's ball, but her attention was focused on Regulus. She paused in the doorway, attracting several looks, and his head jerked up.

She smiled at him and he broke off mid-sentence, and walked over to her.

"Gods, you look ravishing. Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, to hell with them all," she said laughing exuberantly. His eyes were glowing with joy, the grey coloured by a warm green tinge. He bent his beautiful head and kissed her, drawing her close to him. Forgetting the eyes on them, she dissolved into him, losing herself in his mouth and touch.

"Better stop before I rip that glorious dress off you. You will outshine every other woman tonight. Here, I have a present for you."

"You're ridiculous, why get me a present?"

"It's a Black heirloom, and I can't think of anyone more perfect to wear it. Mother left all the jewels locked in my vault you see, so the Goblins couldn't sell it off as they knew I wasn't dead."

He pulled a box out of his pocket and she took the opportunity to admire him. He was impeccably dressed in black and pale, dove-grey silk.

"Hold out your wrist and close your eyes."

She obeyed, and he kissed the inside of her wrist gently before clasping the cool metal around it.

"There, you can look now."

The antique diamonds glittered around her wrist, understated enough to enhance her dress without looking tasteless.

"It's absolutely beautiful, Regulus, but I'm not sure I can accept this."

"Please, Hermione. I want you to have it," he said seriously.

_I'm going to marry that girl..._

What commitment was she making by accepting his jewellery? She looked up into his eyes and then relaxed. He looked nervous, although he hid it well, and she kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Thank you," she murmured softly. "We'd better go and talk to Harry and Ginny before they implode with curiosity."

He nodded and walked to fetch her some champagne while she greeted her friends.

"Hello, Harry, Ginny," she said awkwardly.

"Hermione," Ginny said, quite coolly, "how are you? Regulus is delicious, by the way."

Hermione sighed in relief. Ginny wasn't going to be difficult.

"If you don't mind my commenting on it, you're being very nice, Gin. I'm sorry about Ron, I really am."

Ginny snorted delicately. "Don't be silly, he asked you to give up your career. Even _I _know that's ridiculous for you and I've been brought up being told that's the normal thing to do. You were never really right for each other, anyway."

"Hermione, I'm so sorry about earlier," Harry broke in. "I had no idea... and I shouldn't have accused you of being in love with Sirius."

"That's fine, Harry. You meant well and at least I've spoken to Ron now."

"Who's in love with Sirius?" Regulus' low drawl sounded behind her, and she couldn't disguise the shiver of pleasure that ran up her spine. "Here's your champagne, my beautiful."

"Thank you," she replied, basking in the sudden warmth that came with the arm he slid over her bare shoulders.

"You look incredible, by the way, Gin," Hermione added. Ginny was looking statuesque in a dark blue satin dress.

"Thanks, you look beautiful too. Oh blimey, Draco Malfoy's here. Did you know he was coming?" she asked Harry.

"He's dating Astoria Greengrass."

"Greengrass... think I shagged her aunt at school. Lovely looking, but not much up top. And I don't mean her breasts," Regulus winked at Harry.

"And now she's past forty, and probably looking twice that," Hermione said sweetly.

"At least I'm still young and beautiful," he countered. "How lovely for you to know that all my exes are old enough to be my mother now. Merlin, what an appalling thought."

Harry nodded stiffly to someone behind her and Hermione turned.

"Hello, Malfoy, nice to see you. Regulus, this is your cousin Draco Malfoy. Narcissa's son."

He bowed slightly to Draco and kissed Astoria's hand.

"So it's true then," Malfoy drawled. "You've moved on from the Weasel. My congratulations, Cousin."

Hermione had worked with Draco for the past year, and personally thought he had grown up a lot since the war. Harry and Ron had always been insistent that _once an almighty bloody git, always an almighty bloody git _so she had never tried to make them bond.

"Thanks, Draco."

He introduced them to the stunningly, beautifully blonde, Astoria Greengrass, and chatted lightly for a couple of minutes before moving on to circulate. Regulus was attracting shocked looks and they too moved on from talking with the Potters. Hermione introduced him to those he didn't know, and re-introduced him to those he did.

When the Weasleys arrived half an hour late, Hermione was relieved to note that Ron wasn't with them.

Molly took one look at her and rushed over.

"Hermione dear, don't be offended by Ronald's not being here. He's got some insane idea in his head that you're never getting back together and has decided to go straight to the ball."

Hermione blinked. _What?_

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm terribly sorry, but he's right. I don't think Ron and I are, erm, _suited_ anymore. Have you met Sirius' brother?" she said, desperately trying to avoid the awkward, and unexpected, conversation.

She had had no idea Mrs. Weasley actually wanted her to marry Ron.

"Never?" Mrs. Weasley said, her voice going shrill. Hermione looked around desperately, but there was no one close enough to rescue her.

"I'm so sorry." _Except, I'm really, really not._ "He and I want very different things from life."

"Well," the matriarch drew herself up, "I suppose he's had a lucky escape then!" she said icily. "How could you? That poor darling boy has been in love with you since you were twelve. You've broken his heart. I always knew you were a... a scarlet woman. And who's _this_?"

"This is Regulus Black. Sirius' younger brother," Hermione said tightly. "If you'll excuse me? I must go and say hello to Kingsley. Regulus, I promised to introduce you to him..."

They hurried away, and Hermione was thankful that even Mrs. Weasley would shy away from any dramatics at the Minister's ball.

xxx

The Grand Ballroom in the Ministry had never looked so beautiful, Hermione thought as she walked down the stairs, arm-in-arm with Regulus. They were late, having waited for everyone to leave Grimmauld Place, and she kept a smile on her face, despite feeling self-conscious at the looks they were attracting.

"You alright there, my love? You've gone tense."

"Yeah. I just get tired of all the stares sometimes. Especially when I know that half the people in here at least truly believe I'm a 'hussy'. It's irritating."

"Bollocks to them. Besides, the male half at least certainly aren't staring because they think you're a hussy. Well, only in a complimentary way," he back-tracked. "I just mean, they think you look gorgeous and sexy- which you are. All these women? Jealous. So ignore them and enjoy yourself."

"Alright, I will." She smiled up at him sweetly.

A camera flashed and she snapped her head up. The press had been given limited access to the event, as per any Ministry event, and the_Prophet's_ photographer had just snapped her.

At least they would only be around until the dinner was served.

"Come on, darling, let's go and see where we're sitting."

"Oh, we're at Kingsley's table. Isabel said she wanted someone to actually be able to talk to. Harry and Ginny are too, of course, and Sirius. I'm not sure who else though. Oh, come and meet Padma Patil. She's lovely..."

The dinner was delicious, and then the tables floated to the sides to open up the dance floor. The Banqueting Hall was a glorious triumph of baroque excess, with great gilded marble pillars, a wall of windows to rival the _Galerie des Glaces_, a sweeping staircase descending into the room and an immense animated fresco ceiling depicting classical myths. It had all the elegant lines of French baroque, but all the flair and glitter of the Italians.

All in all, the room was a decadent tribute to a past era and Hermione thought it was fantastic.

Hermione spent half of the meal watching Regulus, the animation that made his eyes glow and his face merry, the aloof, careful look that he put in place when a difficult subject arose. He charmed them, amused them, and they all fell under his spell; even Harry.

She briefly caught sight of Ron, sitting by an attractive girl with light brown hair. She fervently hoped he didn't drink too much and make a fool of himself. Unlike Ron, Regulus seemed to become more witty and eloquent as he drank the liberally poured wine.

"Dance with me, Hermione?" He offered his hand, looking deep into her eyes. "I need to have you in my arms."

The violins struck up a complicated waltz, and Hermione was grateful both for Regulus' confident leading and the ballroom lessons her mother had insisted Hermione accompany her to.

Regulus held her close as they floated across the floor, and she gave herself to him to guide. He spun her around, and she felt feather-light.

"Your bloody dress doesn't make it easy to dance in, love."

"I wasn't really planning on demonstrating a tango."

He laughed, and slowed his steps. The train of her dress, which made for a stunning spectacle on the steps, really did get in the way of dancing.

"Oh," she said, smirking, "how unfortunate. What a shame; we shall have to dance slowly and pressed closely together. How shall I cope?"

He pulled her flush against him and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Better?" he murmured.

Their wonderful, romantic moment was interrupted by Ron, who tapped Regulus on the shoulder.

"Excuse me?" he said, his face cold and dark with anger and drink. Hermione frowned. This did not appear to be one of Ron's usual hot-headed rages. "May I cut in?"

Regulus looked down at Hermione and she nodded her head slightly.

"One dance," he warned, and walked off.

"What do you want, Ron?"

"What does he have?" he demanded. "I know it's not his money, or even his looks. Just tell me what he has. You never looked at me like you look at him."

"Ron," she said cautiously, "don't do this."

"No, tell me. Don't worry, I won't make a spectacle," he retorted derisively.

"It's hard to put into words. I can't explain it; we just click, he and I. Perhaps it's his mind, his intelligence, or his wit, or everything about him, flaws and all, rolled into one- I don't know... I _am_ him. All I know is that I'm terribly sorry for hurting you." Her voice was earnest, but he just looked sadder.

"What a fool I've been. All that time together and you were just waiting for someone else," he said bitterly.

"No, never think that. I truly did love you, and I still do. But I'm no more in love with you- now- than I am with Harry. I'll always treasure what we had, but we weren't meant to be, Ron. We would make each other miserable." She hoped she could convey her passionate sincerity to him.

"He's a coward, Hermione. How can you think he deserves you?"

She smiled sweetly. "He's not a coward, Ron, not really. I don't expect you to understand... or to want to hear this, but please, can we remain friends? You were my best friend above anything else and I'd hate to lose you."

He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the little ring, pressing it into her hand.

"It's yours, I don't want it. One day, perhaps. Give me time?"

She was grateful to see that the anger had left, but it pained her to see the deep sorrow in his blue eyes. On impulse she rose up to peck his cheek lightly.

"Keep the ring, Ron," she whispered. "You might need it someday."

But he shook his head and walked off, leaving her feeling strangely sad and hopeful all at once.

She turned, and caught Regulus' eye across the room, where he was talking to Sirius. He smiled at her and blew a kiss and her heart fluttered.

Yes, she realised. She was falling in love.

* * *

I'm updating this at long last... I have deep guilt at the lovely reviews I've had here for it and feel so so bad that I haven't put it all up before. It's been complete over at Granger Enchanted for years so hopefully people have found it there.

For my part, I've moved on a lot since writing this (four or five years ago now) and so have little attachment to it now (reading it makes me feel a funny combination of nostalgic and a bit sick). **But there are a lot of really sweet, really wonderful people out there so THANK YOU to all of you who've commented. You are all amazing. I'm only sorry I'm a lazy p.o.s. who hasn't updated this before now. **

Just the Epilogue to follow.


	5. Epilogue

Usual disclaimers apply.

Warning: this is cheesier than Regulus on toast. Sugary enough to give you cavities. (Seriously.)

* * *

_Passion is the quickest to develop, and the quickest to fade. Intimacy develops more slowly, and commitment more gradually still._

~ Robert Sternberg

_If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you._

~ Winnie the Pooh

.

Hermione lay basking in the Provencal sun by the glorious lake on her fiancé's estate. He'd had to Floo back to London for an emergency meeting with the Minister about his current case, despite the trip being an escape to celebrate their official engagement. She understood though - he was as passionate about what he did as she was.

Eyeing her ring, still an unfamiliar sight on her slender, brown finger, she smiled It was an elegant arrangement of sapphires and diamonds. He, as cheesy as ever, had chosen her birth stone to offset the large central diamond. Hermione would enjoy the memory of Regulus' proposal for a long time. He'd taken her back to their favourite restaurant, and requested the balcony where they had had their first date together. Had she been in love with him even then? She wasn't sure. Certainly close to it.

_I love you_, he'd said, going down on one knee. _It won't be easy and we'll have blazing rows, but you are the woman I want to spend my life with. You've been it for me from the moment you woke me in the depths of Gringotts and I utterly adore you. _

Frank, and to the point; how she adored him.

She stretched out, enjoying the warm sun on her almost naked body. However, something _very_ important was niggling at her mind. Being called Mrs. Black, horrendously, appallingly, would remind her of Regulus' mother's portrait.

Hermione Granger-Black? Should she just stay Hermione Granger?

She would keep her name for her work. After all, she was famous and it was already becoming associated with all the causes she'd spent the last two years of her life fighting for. She was twenty-two, and she had already changed a law.

Regulus, of course, had been incredibly helpful. He held a sway over the Wizengamot that she simply did not, not to mention several seats were still under the Black name. He and Sirius had entered into it with gusto, and Regulus had trained in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after falling in love with what she did when she was working on them. House-elves had always been of particular relevance to him and now he had taken up the mantle as joint-champion of their cause.

A loud pop sounded beside her and she sat up, surprised. Seeing it was only Kreacher, she relaxed.

"Hello, Kreacher," she said pleasantly. He had insisted on coming to work for 'Master Regulus' and she had insisted he was paid and had days off. After a two-day stalemate, Regulus had given him the choice; accept Hermione's terms, be freed, or work for Sirius.

He had chosen Regulus, of course. She'd never seen such ecstasy as when Regulus called Kreacher for the first time.

"Good morning, Miss Hermione," he still choked a little every time he called her by her first name, "I is having post for you and the newspapers." She thanked him, and he vanished leaving her to bask in the sun.

She glanced at the headlines, wondering if news of her engagement had hit the papers yet. There was an old picture of them, from Kingsley's ball the year before, where she was looking up into his eyes and smiling as they walked down the stairs. Photo-Regulus winked at the real her and bent his head to kiss the top of her own.

_STARRY-EYED PAIR TO TIE THE KNOT?_

_Has the notorious Hermione Granger been caught at last?_

_Since February last year, the relationship between Regulus Black and the infamous Hermione Granger has caught and held our attention. With Miss Granger's record, we expected him to be another rung in a tall ladder, but it seems that someone has finally caught the elusive witch._

_ Mr. Black's return from death is the source of myth, rumour and controversy but sources close to the couple say that he was trapped in an eternal sleep and Miss Granger, soon to be Mrs. Black, saved him. We think it's a modern fairytale come to life; a rare tale of true romance._

_Miss. Granger was spotted wearing a sapphire and diamond ring on her ring finger yesterday and sources say the couple has escaped to the Black home in Provence to celebrate. She once reportedly said of the younger Black brother that she "couldn't help" falling in love with him and that she's "just known" almost as soon as she saw him._

_Sirius Black, Auror and close friend of the Minister, is apparently delighted and already considers Miss. Granger a sister to him._

_One person who won't be overjoyed today is Miss Granger's ex-fiancé Ron Weasley, who she left for Regulus Black. Molly Weasley was heard speaking in outrage at the news yesterday evening. She has left a string of broken hearts in her wake, and we will be watching this marriage with baited breath. The pair, dedicated to improving the welfare and rights of house-elves, are swiftly becoming a powerful force to be reckoned with inside the Ministry and Wizengamot, and we foresee much drama to come._

Relatively harmless, all things considered. Regulus had become tired of the press' constant slating of Hermione and had 'gone to have a word' with various editors. Since then, they had stopped portraying her as a heartless strumpet and left her relationship with him largely out of the papers. She flicked through the rest of her post; largely fairly dull legal correspondence and congratulatory notes. There was a long letter from her parents, however, and she began to read that.

Her mother adored Regulus almost as much as she did herself. He had beautiful teeth, which apparently helped. Her father had been harder to convince; in Ron there had been little threat. He had been safe and easy for a father to accept. Regulus on the other hand, who exuded intelligence and sexuality, was a much more dangerous figure. And she had already been head over heels in love with him when she'd introduced him to her parents. But even he had finally come to accept Regulus, accept that the gifts he plied Hermione with were not merely to buy her affection, but a genuine expression of his own. That was something they had rowed about early in their relationship.

There had been many clashes between them in the past year. Both were volatile, used to arguing, highly opinionated and intelligent and they could have shouting matches over anything from opinions of literature or history to the cooking, or a case. And she loved it; the spark that she'd always believed was there when she and Ron bickered was a full blown flame, an inferno, when she argued with Regulus, and usually ended up with them in bed.

But more important than passion; they were friends, confidants, intimates as well as lovers. And she knew that, however hard it would be sometimes, they would be alright because she trusted him implicitly, because she felt entirely comfortable with him, because he knew her and saw her as no one else did. And one day, not too far away perhaps, she would have children with him. She _wanted _to have his child; a concept that had been foreign to her until she had met him. Not that she'd stop working just because she'd had children; that wasn't her nature.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, my love," Regulus' husky voice drawled from above her. She had been too absorbed in her letter to hear his approach.

"Hello, darling, how was Kingsley?"

"Very well, sent his love."

"You sneaky liar, where have you really been?" she said, laughing.

He dropped onto the grass beside her and sent her an injured look.

"Heartless woman, how could you accuse me so?"

She rolled her eyes and kissed him.

"All right, there was an auction at _Lussore's _and I saw something you might like in the catalogue. I bought a couple of paintings for the house as well."

"Oh, lovely. Where for? We need something for that wall in the dining room. It's been bothering me."

"Well, you can see the ones I bought later and there are some here you'll love. I sold all the horrendous shite my dear relations worshipped, but some of them had good taste, even if they were hopelessly bigoted. Now, shut up about the art and see what you think of this."

He carefully laid the box he had been holding down in front of her.

"Go on, open it."

"What's the occasion?" she teased, lifting the lid.

"Oh Merlin, Regulus," she said, and promptly burst into tears. Inside was the very first edition of _Hogwarts, A History_, handwritten by Gerbert Erskine in the fifteenth century.

"Hermione, you can't possibly be crying over that." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her hair. "You are utterly ridiculous."

"It's the m-most w-wonderful present, I love it."

"I got some pretty emeralds for your ears as well," he said, sliding them through the tiny holes in her ears. "Turn and let me see? Beautiful."

They were heavy and dangled and, she knew from past experience of his impeccable taste, extremely beautiful.

"The earrings are for me because I love seeing you draped in diamonds and emeralds and, most of all now, sapphires," he said, excusing the buy as he always did; saying he bought the jewellery because he liked seeing her in it.

"You are just as ridiculous as I am. And I love and adore you for it. Thank you."

"I love you, too. Now, when can I officially make you Mrs. Black?"

"Regulus, I don't think we can get married if I'm going to be called Mrs. Black," she said seriously, " or I'll always be thinking about your mother."

"Then I shall be Mr. Granger," he grinned. "You suit Hermione Black, but keep your name if you want."

"I will for work, but perhaps... I suppose I should be proud to be the first Muggleborn Mrs. Black. Unless Sirius marries someone in the next two months. I got a letter from Mummy today, saying congratulations and she can't wait to start helping to plan the wedding. Shall we have it here? That would be lovely. It really is my favourite place in the world-"

"- Shut up and kiss me, Mrs. Black."

"I was going to say because you're here, but if you insist."

And they lay in the sun, wrapped in each others' arms, for hours.

* * *

There you go! All done (thank Merlin, it was giving me hives but I felt guilty). Some of you witches hiding out there have a real weakness for cheesiness. I actually took out the worst stuff in here (a detailed description of her lovely sapphire and diamond ring vomitvomit).

Let me know what you thought!

x


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